Bathwater
by xXBeckyFoo
Summary: It's their 7th year,the Dark Lord's dead and the Death Eaters are all rounded up. Nothing could go wrong, right? There's a sense of peace in the air, but how long can it possibly last when the Ministry's throwing people together for all eternity? Curse the new Marriage Law.
1. Keeping the Peace

**AN: Alright, my lovely readers, old and new! So, I've recently gotten various reviews about the amount of mistakes throughout the story. And though I am aware of them, I left it as was for a long time. But recently I got another review that sort of...put me in my place and I decided to go through it and fix it as thoroughly as I can. So, I want to thank all of you who read it and loved it as was, and hopefully it will be enjoyed more now.**

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**BATHWATER.**

Stepping onto the entrance of Hogwarts' library, Hermione Granger, brilliant one-third of the Golden Trio, inhaled deeply the aroma all around her as a smile slowly, but surely crept onto her face and stretched her lips. "Ah," her eyes glittered with joy, "I love the smell of books in the morning."

"Not this year, 'Mione!" Before she could even take a step in, Hermione was pulled away from her idea of heaven and was being dragged by Ginny Weasley with great strength.

"Wait! Wait! Madam Pince added a new section this year, Gin!" Hermione gasped, trying to hold on to something as Ginny continued to drag her down the corridor of the ancient castle without any respect or consideration. "_No_!"

Ginny rolled her eyes at the witch, letting out a snort. "Honestly, Hermione, the books won't be going anywhere. I doubt that any of the students will be checking out any books so early in the year. Besides, you're the only one who reads in this castle, remember? You've got time."

"That's the thing, Gin," Hermione complained in defeat, letting herself be pulled by the Gryffindor Chaser. Her slender arms and weak strength couldn't be compared to Ginny's toned ones; especially since the redhead had taken the summer holidays to train for Quidditch and Hermione had taken it to rest, sleep, and spend time with her parents while she ate what she couldn't in her time on the run, building absolutely no muscle. She would've lost the battle even if she had attempted to get away. "It's the first day of school, they'll know all the good books are in because I haven't been in there to claim them!"

The brunette's reasoning was ignored as they now approached the doors of the Great Hall. And there, looking somewhat annoyed and impatient, was another familiar redhead. "There you two are."

"I had to go and find the Brightest Witch of the Age before she lost herself in the aisles of books," Ginny huffed, finally releasing Hermione and setting her free to move her body as she wished.

"I hate it when you tear me away from the library." Hermione glared, rubbing where Ginny clutched on to her. "You don't have any respect for my love of education."

Ron Weasley rolled his eyes at the two. "We better get a move on. I'm awfully hungry and they're far more Gryffindors this year, and I will not start the first day without food in my belly."

"Well, of course there is. What's not to be courageous and brave about now?" Ginny mumbled almost angrily as they made their way in. "The Dark Lord's dead, the Death Eaters are imprisoned, and all of a sudden everyone seems more brave." She snorted. "Where was this bravery when the Order needed recruiters? How about when no one believed in Harry or Dumbledore?"

"You seem a little aggravated, Gin," Ron said mockingly. "Something getting your knickers in a twist?"

"Behave yourself, Ronald," Hermione said before a fight broke out with the siblings, taking a seat on the middle section of the Gryffindor table.

Ron frowned as he reached for a full plate, but said nothing. He just stabbed his eggs in disapproval.

"Never mind him, Hermione," Ginny exhaled in defeat, piling toast on to her own plate.

The brunette just smiled dimly in the direction of the redheaded girl. She didn't have to say anything to her because Ginny was already well aware that she understood and sympathized with the way she felt.

Ginny Weasley had been in love with Harry Potter from the first moment she laid eyes on him—before he even became the Savior of the Wizarding World and he was loved by all. Those bloody hypocrites. She loathed how years back everyone seemed to have turned their backs on him, not willing to believe his words that the Dark Lord had come back again. But sure, watch him slay Lord Voldemort, the thickhead, and all of a sudden Harry is loved worldwide and no one's got a bad thing to say to and about him.

It really did piss Ginny off to no ends.

"Oi, mate, where have you been?" Ron asked with a full mouth as Harry Potter reached the Gryffindor table, bits of sausage flying out.

"McGonagall summoned me before breakfast," Harry replied simply, placing a kiss on Ginny's red hair and smiling at his best friends carelessly. "She wanted to make sure I was alright and up to do this again."

Ron scoffed. "Didn't she know Mum made sure you were coherent enough before we got to King Cross?"

Harry shrugged. "She worries, McGonagall does."

"I expect this will be a great year, don't you?" Hermione smiled contently, taking a bite of her toast as her eyes glowed at the ones staring back at her. "We're back for our Seventh Year, no more Dark Arts business, and no worries of being murdered."

Harry cleared his throat a little, knitting his eyebrows when he didn't look as chipper as his best friend was. "Yeah, excellent." Somehow the idea of living in peace sounded a bit ridiculous in his head considering everything he'd been through. Peace just seemed so _easy _now. And Harry Potter wasn't used to things being easy at all.

"Oh, it will be! Everyone thinks so, too. That's why they all returned to complete their education," Hermione informed confidently, noticing the Patil twins talking animatedly with Neville Longbottom. No worried expressions on anyone's faces, the air so light and easy around them as they all laughed with ease.

Ron narrowed his eyes and took a look over Hermione's head, passing the other house-table until he reached the furthest one. The Slytherin table, of course. "Seems like the Death Eater lot came back too." He nudged his head forward. "Parkinson, Nott, Zabini, Goyle and…._Malfoy."_

At the disgust in which he said the names with, at the hatred that burned in his eyes, Harry groaned at his best friend. "Not this, Ron. Not so early in the year, I beg you. I personally will like not to have a feud with any Slytherins for the rest of the term. Can't we just pretend there's no fourth House and get over it? I'd really appreciate a quiet year, you know."

"Harry's right, Ron." Ginny held Harry's hand as she spoke, giving it a squeeze to show her support of his words. "Besides, I doubt that any Slytherins are up to getting themselves into trouble. Not after what happened last year. They've lost many on their side as well, most of them are _still_ in mourning and surely none of them want to deal with the hassle of petty teenage rivalry."

Ron frowned instantly at that, a sort of fire consisting of fury ignited in his chest. "Now we're suppose to be sympathetic?" He growled at his younger sibling. "Did _we_ not lose people in the war? Aren't _we_ in mourning?"

"We are," Ginny replied dangerously low, "but this is the time where we have to learn to stick together. The dark times are over and what's left is to adjust to this new life. It's harder, seeing as we lost many, but we have no other choice. They suffered, maybe not the same as—"

"_Suffered_?" Ron repeated furiously, interrupting his sister. "We lost _Fred_, Ginny!" Tears welled up in his bright, blue eyes as he thought back to his brother's dead body, that horrid memory flooding him like the nightmares he suffers through most nights. "Mad-Eye, Sirius, Tonks, Remus—people of good!"

"Stop," Harry breathed, glaring at his best friend with a mixture of emotions; both angry and saddened ones. "This isn't about the…deaths, Ron. It's about keeping the peace that everyone fought to get."

Ever the concerned and mature one, Hermione's first instinct was to grab Ron's arm and try to restrain him in case he blew up and started something. He was always so easily unsettled, she didn't want to risk anything. "Calm down, okay? Everything's going to be fine. Just keep it together." She pulled him back down to his seat, getting him away from the eyes of a few eavesdropping Gryffindors.

"This _better_ be a great year," Ron mutter almost threateningly, almost as if he was speaking to the vibes of the universe.

"It will." Hermione gave his arm a comforting pat, sounding so assuring. "I can _feel_ it."

_Ding. Ding. Ding._

"Good morning." The new Headmistress stood up from her seat in the main table in the Great Hall, her firm voice echoing around and hushing the conversations going on; all eyes now on her. Her half-moon spectacles were placed at the tip of her nose as she stared at all the students, optimism written all over her elderly face. "I trust that all of you slept comfortably and found all of your belongings to be in their rightful place. Seeing as the first day of lessons commences today, I suggest that none of you begin to put off any work you may receive for further days. Remember that it all catches up on you, and that teachers aren't required to extend deadlines to appease you. It will only end up being more stressing when you're up at late hours doing your assignments and fail to do your best in classes and exams."

"There goes my idea of taking it easy today," Seamus Finnegan chortled with a few Gryffindors, seeming far more relaxed than what he'd been in the previous year of war and havoc; the atmosphere equally as calm. "I was planning on chasing a few skirts."

As Seamus winked at a few Gryffindor girls, Hermione watched for a moment as Lavender Brown threw her spoon at him and motioned him to keep quiet as the Headmistress continued to talk.

"In behalf of all the staff at Hogwarts, we are pleased that last year's Seventh Years have decided to come back and finish their education. A decision that none of you will regret, I assure you that." She gave an appointed look around, but nonetheless looked proud of their choice. "Now, seeing as last year's events have left us with greater aspects of situations around the Wizarding World, we encourage interactions between all houses. Your rivalry with one another will _not _be tolerated. Times are changing and we're seeking to make most of you united for a brighter future for our world. We all are a part of it in the end. And if you hurt one, you hurt all."

"...I wouldn't mind if they gave Malfoy a go," Ron whispered to Hermione. "I doubt I'll suffer one bit for it."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said nothing to further add to Ron's clear anger.

"Now, we need all Sixth and Seventh Years to stay in their respective tables for an important announcement." McGonagall's optimism faded away and instead gained an somewhat blank and aloof expression. Her small eyes narrowed from behind her spectacles as she waited for the Great Hall to clear out, her fingers tapping at the inside of her palms.

Once the younger students cleared out, some mumbling with curiosity at why they were being excluded from whatever the Headmistress had to say, McGonagall asked Filch to shut the doors and make sure there wasn't any lingering students. She whipped out her wand, said a loud Silencing Charm as she pointed her wand at the grand doors of the Great Hall. She was silent for a few moments, staring at the students like she was staring at them for the final time in her lifespan. It put many of her beloved students on edge.

One of those being Neville Longbottom. "What's this about, Professor?" He asked, speaking without asking to. He had been looking calm and collected since their arrival back to the castle—completely changed from that pudgy and frightened little boy to a very handsome, brave, and heroic teenage boy—but now he seemed somewhat nervous himself.

"I'm getting to it, Longbottom," the Headmistress replied stoically. She said nothing for another moment; taking the chance to be reminiscing and nostalgic in her mind. She remembered all of them, always did, since they were nothing but small and curious First Years. She couldn't believe how much they had grown, how much they'd all gone through in the past years, and how much that had changed most of them. It pained her, it truly did, that she knew there was missing students among the throng—students that hadn't survived the war the way these had. But they were all going to be remembered, McGonagall and many others were going to make sure of it. They were brave and lost souls who died to protect the walls of her beloved Hogwarts, themselves, and their own loved ones.

She cleared her throat, calling for attention as she had enough of her own sentiment. "There was an urgent meeting with all the Heads of every department in the Ministry, including the Wizengamot, earlier this morning to—"

"This is about us, isn't it?!" Pansy Parkinson shot up from her seat amongst the Slytherins, not aware that she was shouting in a deadly silent Great Hall. "Well, we didn't do anything! We're innocent! The Ministry can't do anything to us!"

Being the closest to the dark-haired girl, Draco Malfoy looked up with disgusted silver eyes at his house-mate. He didn't say anything, but it was clear to anyone that saw him that he was ashamed just sitting near her.

"Sit down, you idiot," Daphne Greengrass snapped at her fellow Slytherin. "You're making a fool of yourself—and us!" She reached a manicured hand up to pull the dark-haired girl down by the sleeve of her robes.

Hermione glanced at the Slytherins carefully and noticed that all of them seemed to have a look of guilt and shame plastered on their faces as their house-mate, in fact, got them attention none of them wanted.

"Settle yourself, Miss Parkinson," McGonagall spoke firmly, but said nothing else to reassure the girl that everything with her and her lot was perfectly okay. "The meeting at the Ministry was to discuss a new motion that was being negotiated with since the new Minister was appointed. Now, after several weeks with Kingsley Shacklebolt in his position, the Heads and the council have been working hard for this proposition to pass. And as of seven this morning, the proposition became law." There were skeptical whispers, and the Headmistress waited until they subdued. "The Minister is here to explain all of this to you."

She motioned to the furthest corner of the table where a dark man sat patiently. "Thank you, Headmistress," Kingsley Shacklebolt said politely, standing and walking towards the podium where she was.

"Did you even see him before?" Harry raised his eyebrows, looking at the Minister as he whispered to the people around him.

"No," Ron and Hermione said in unison, looking equally as confused over Kingsley's sudden presence.

"This must be serious if Kingsley came all this way," Ginny commented, her eyes lingering at front with some wonder.

With a deep voice, the Minister began. "The Second Great War caused irreversible damage to the Wizard Community, as you all know. There were massive losses from both sides that have resulted in much pain and resentment, but what has frightened the Ministry the most in these weeks since the conclusion of the war is that during the three year reign of You-Know-Who the numbers calculated suggest we lost _more than half_ of our population. Sixty-two percent of the Wizardying Community was wiped out, perishing at the hands of Death Eaters, the Dark Lord, and during battle."

Almost all the students in the Great Hall lowered their heads. Whether it was due to respect, mourning or shame, Hermione hadn't a clue. But she did know facts and people, and there was a reason why this was going on when they were supposed to be in class. There was something important to what the Minister was saying, so up her hand went. "How exactly does this affect us? Other than in the obvious, of course," she added when a few students frowned at her tactlessness or apparent uncaring comment.

"Ah, yes, my dear Hermione." Kingsley smiled at her, knowing that she'd been the one asking the questions in a matter of seconds. Now, he only hoped that her patience was able to spread onto others once he was finished explaining. "Well, you see, if our estimations are correct a massive sprout of Squibs will be infecting the Wizarding families in the upcoming year. And the fear of the magic running in our bloods becoming extinct is brewing among the Ministry and other active members of our council. It's something that should be important to all of us, actually. You have to understand that the possibility that in a few years we will no longer be dominate in the community _is _occurring. We must act now to preserve our magical-heredity. "

"The Minister," Professor McGonagall rose again from her seat, aiding Kingsley in his speech as he somehow seemed to have gone from being informative to begging, "has passed a law that will allegedly help solve this problem." She looked at all of them once again and sighed. There was just no other way to say this other than directly."As of seven this morning a Marriage Law was created and passed. All wizards and witches from the ages of sixteen to twenty-three are bound into this new action. And this requires of you to be married under the decree stated by the Marriage Law with a person the Ministry has decided is best, by their method of choosing, within the following year."

Hermione spat her pumpkin-juice out, spraying the Gryffindor tabletop and a few students as soon as the Headmistress took the plunge it let it all out. She started coughing wildly that the nearest person to her started thumping on her back in panic.

"—Kingsley!" Ron roared.

"—You can't do this!" Seamus stood from the table.

"—Has all of the Ministry gone mental?!" Pansy stood from her side of the Great Hall with evident shock passing through her system.

"—This is absolutely ridiculous!" Hannah Abbott, a Hufflepuff Seventh Year, shouted.

"Settle down!" Professor McGonagall scolded at the angry students, trying to calm them down as they shouted like bad-mannered children. "_Silence_!"

"Kingsley how could you pass such a medieval law?" Hermione spluttered at the Order member and one of her friends. "You were supposed to revolutionize the system as new Minister, Kingsley! Not send it all back to ancient times! How can you do this to us?!"

"You're insane!" Shooting up from her own seat, angry tears threatening to spill from her eyes, Ginny was an infuriated mess. "You can't tie my life—_a__ny of our_ _lives_—into a damn Marriage Law, Shacklebolt! You can't!"

Harry pulled on his girlfriend's arm, bringing her back down. He stared at her, his own worry gleaming in his green eyes. He knew what this meant, and so did Ginny. If there was a Marriage Law, if it was going to be forced and with someone chosen by the Ministry...

"They can't separate me from you, Harry," Ginny whispered in panic to him. "They can't. They can't."

The Minister sighed steadily, inhaling and exhaling patiently as he felt a little guilty from the clear hysteria on the youngest Weasley's face. He was prepared for the outrage of the Hogwarts students, after all it was no surprise that this was the way they were all going to react. (Besides, exercising patience after a new law that passed was basically written in the Minister's guide-handbook.) He had no choice. The Wizengamot, the Heads, the people deep within the political system of the Ministry wanted this. His powers as Minister only went so far; his hands were tied and he'd lost the voice of reason of not going through this. There was no other choice.

"By the means of the Sorting Hat, the Ministry will conduct the pairings in this Marriage Law tomorrow morning. Be inside the Great Hall promptly by nine in the morning," the Minister said in the best ordering fashion he could through the commotion.

"But he's the Chosen One!" Ginny ignored that and continued to protest, shoving away Harry's calming hold from her arm. Sure, she was feeling immensely pathetic to have to resort to _that_ excuse, because she did hate the fame Harry had developed for being the Boy-Who-Lived, but he _was_ respected through the community for it. And if it would save her relationship with Harry, she would use it against Merlin himself if she had to. "You can't make him do this!"

Kingsley gave her a defeated gaze. "No preferences, Miss Weasley. Mister Potter is still a member of our Ministry, and as such he has to abide by the same laws."

"You can't do this!" Pansy Parkinson huffed, stomping her foot as many from her house agreed loudly with her. Even a few from the other tables.

Again, Harry pulled the redhead down before she could shout another curse or another blasphemy to the people inside the Great Hall. "Relax,Gin," he told her as he tried to seat her back on the bench, "it'll be fine."

"Harry, I swear if I lose you because of that bloody sorting hat tomorrow, I will blow up this school without hesitation."

And through the clatter of yells, of protests, of curses, of threats, the Headmistress cleared her throat over the racket; trying not to be too scolding in this hectic moment for all of them. "You are dismissed to your lessons now," she spoke to them as simply as she could. "And I advise you not to speak of the Marriage Law to the younger students."

"_Lessons_?" Ron huffed, standing from his seat furiously as everyone else did the same. "How can the bloody woman think we're up for lessons now after Kingsley dropped the bomb on us?"

In the history of being Hermione Granger, the brunette nodded and agreed with Ronald over missing classes. "I think I'm going to throw up," she muttered weakly, breathing in deeply as she caught Ron's shoulder for support. "Kingsley couldn't have possibly taken the audacity to choose _our_ entire lives. I just can't believe that."

"—What if it's a _Gryffindor_?" Theodore Nott was heard by the Golden Trio, barking at his group of Slytherins as no one replied to Hermione's comment. Instead they perked their ears, trying to get a good listen as they continued down their path. "I knew I shouldn't have come back this year. I just knew it."

Pansy groaned loudly along with her housemate, a dramatic cry following after it. "I would gladly have someone kill me at this moment. I thought the whole point of ending Pureblood ways was to rid this damn world from _all_ of it? Including their daft ideas of arranged marriages and all that other subjective rubbish!"

"Think on the bright side, Pans," Blaise Zabini, a handsome dark-skinned Slytherin, said passing through the Gryffindor group without a look back at them, "maybe you'll end up with a nice, gentle, Hufflepuff."

"I'll be lucky enough to get Longbottom," Pansy huffed, taking the lead of her group as she disappeared when she turned the corner of the corridor.

"You know, Harry, I've got a thought." Ron stopped, leaning against their Charms classroom wall. "I doubt it would be hard to ignore that Hogwarts has a fourth house—" He waited until his best friend kissed Ginny on the forehead, watching her head towards her lesson, and then continued when he got his focus back, "when you'll be _married _to them!"

Harry and Hermione rolled their eyes at Ron. "Yes, like there's a possibility of the Sorting Hat placing you with a Slytherin, Ron," Harry told him sarcastically. "You just continue ignoring them, will you?"

As Harry went into the classroom, Ron followed pursuit by saying, "I rather be hexing all of them, actually."

"Honestly, Ronald, can't you—OW!"Before Hermione could follow her friends into their Charms lesson, someone collided with her shoulder roughly. She turned and her eyes fell into a pool of cool silver; a deep and hallow pool of murky water. "Watch where you're going, Malfoy," she suggested to the student, wincing as she rubbed her shoulder from the sudden impact.

Draco Malfoy opened his mouth, but shut it quickly before he could even say anything. He just shook his platinum-blonde hair at the witch, glared in his usual fashion, and with a snort continued his way.

Hermione narrowed her eyes at his leaving figure and swaying robes. "I pity whoever has to marry him."


	2. Potter for Minister!

**Chapter Two.**

"I can't believe Shacklebolt would do this to us," Ginny Weasley repeated for what was the hundredth time that same day as she stood on a small table in the middle of the Gryffindor Common Room. No one said anything, not like anyone dared once she started ranting and turning red and a murderous glint gleamed in her eyes. No, instead silence rung as she spoke. "We can't let him do this. We can't let the Ministry just make our lives for us!"

There was a commotion of agreeing comments, people clapping, and colorful sparks shooting out of some wands to add to the spectacle.

"I agree!" Seamus stood up on an armchair, making himself seen too through the crowd of watching Gryffindors. "I've had my eyes on a Ravenclaw witch for the past two years—the future Mrs. Finnegan and mother to my children! I'm not about to sit idly by and let the Ministry mess that up!"

Looking up from his seat, Dean Thomas rolled his eyes at his best friend. "She doesn't even know your name, mate. You run the opposite way every time she comes near."

"I was going to resolve that this year, Dean!" Seamus informed loudly, ignoring the snickering going on in the background at his expense and lack of guts. Most of them had seen the Irish bloke choke, turn red, and scurry off whenever a pack of Ravenclaws approached him. "Now there goes my plan on showing her what I'm all about!"

As Seamus dropped himself back onto his seat, scowling and trying not to look at anyone, Hermione just knitted her brows and shook her head at her fellow Gryffindor before turning to face Ginny. "You can't be doing this, Ginny," she said sternly. "You can't go revolting! I understand that the idea of you and Harry being with someone else is difficult, especially after the trials you've been through, but you heard what Kingsley said. It's the law. What are we supposed to do? What can _you_ do for that matter?"

"Potter for Minister!" Seamus stood again, throwing a fist high in the air. "Potter! Potter! Potter!"

Grins lit up all around and before anyone else could start agreeing with Finnegan, Harry spoke. "I'm not running for Minister, Seamus," he said, speaking for the first time since he just stood behind his girlfriend and watched her blow off her steam.

"But, Potter—"

"No, Seamus," Harry repeated, walking over to the front of the table so he could face Ginny now. "You need to stop this, Gin. Hermione's right. Nothing good can come out of any of this if you start a problem with the school and the Ministry of Magic."

Ginny narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms in a huff.

"...We'll just have to wait and see what happens," Harry murmured to her, trying to sound like he was optimistic.

Unfortunately for him, the redheaded witch wasn't buying it. She continued to look like she was about to start a revolution. "But what if we aren't together, Harry? What then?" She jumped off the table, still staring at him intently. "What if you get sent off to Romilda Vane and I go back to Dean?"

At the shudder that she gave, at the way her voice sounded as she said it, almost in disgust, Dean frowned at his ex-girlfriend. "Oi," he lowered his copy of the _Daily Prophet_, "I'm in the room, you know?"

Ginny ignored the dark-skinned Gryffindor and then quickly turned to give a saddened look to her current boyfriend. "I'm scared, Harry."

"Don't worry, Gin," Harry grabbed a hold of her hands, smiling as brightly as he could as he looked into the witch's bright eyes, "I doubt that this stupid Marriage Law will keep us apart. I know that no matter what the Sorting Hat will place me with you." He touched her cheek lightly, gazing at her with all his intensity; seeing no one in the room but her. "We will be together because we're meant to be together, Ginny. Can you believe that, too?"

Ginny exhaled noisily, trying not to let the tears push themselves out of her sockets and crumble because of her fears of losing her heart. She was a Weasley woman, damn it, and no Weasley female ever cried for things that she could change. "I do believe it."

"_Awww_!"

The Gryffindor Common Room snickered and made kissing-noises at the Golden Couple, none of them hiding the fact that they were listening into their conversation.

"Shut it." Ginny glared at them as she let Harry pull her into a hug.

Smiling at the sight of the very lovely couple Harry and Ginny made, at the fact that her best friend had managed to subdue his fiery and sometimes crazed girlfriend; Hermione sat herself back down on her place next to Ron. "I'm glad that's over with. Ginny could be persistent and influential, you know. And if it wasn't for Harry, I'm not sure anyone could have stopped her from forming an army and taking over the Ministry _a la revolucion _style."

Ron flipped the page of his Quidditch magazine without sparing her a look. "You seem awfully relaxed with this entire thing, 'Mione." He flipped the page in the same way he spoke, indifferently and carelessly. "What, are you hoping that the Sorting Hat pairs you off with McLaggen?"

At his sarcastic laugh that followed his foul comment Hermione could not be blamed for glaring at him. "Obviously not, Ronald."

He snorted. "If you say so." He didn't take his eyes off from the magazine still.

"What's got your wand in a knot?" She snapped automatically, frowning at her best friend as he continued to act and sound in a way she wasn't used to getting from him. Sure, he could be a git at times, that was clear, but this was getting out of hand lately. (Besides, what happened to the times that Ron loathed just the thought of her being with someone else?)

He finally looked up at her. "Don't think you've a right to get annoyed with me, Hermione." Ron's words were said simply, but they held a furious undertone.

The brunette let out an angry hiss of air. "Am I supposed to allow you to take out your anger on me, then? Only because I'm the only one who's willing to listen to you and put up with your foul attitude?"

"I'm not asking you to stay," Ron growled out. "I never asked you to do so!"

Her anger faded for a moment to be replaced with sadness, with disappointment. "You're insufferable."

"Well that's me, Hermione. Ron Weasley, the insufferable, annoying, aggravating prat." He threw his magazine and stood from the couch. "Have a splendid evening," he spat, stalking his way towards the boys dormitory without anything else being said.

Hermione sat there, a bit stunned and irritated. (What the hell had just happened here?)

She puffed air out again.

She knew Ron was going through so much, especially involving Fred's recent death, but she couldn't let him continue to take out his grieving anger on her anymore, could she? She had dignity, she had self-respect. She was trying to help, she always was and forever will try to do so, but she was beginning to think that there was absolutely no help for Ron Weasley anymore. He was choosing to act like he was the only one who was suffering over his brother's death, like he was the one affected more by and it gave him permission to act the way he acted. He locked himself away in a bubble of fury, not allowing it to burst and move on with his life when everything was passing him by. And Hermione really didn't know if she could put up with it much longer. She'd gone all summer suffering through his rejections, through his shouts, through his cold stares—there was no more patience for her to give.

"Are you okay?" Lavender Brown took Ron's place on the couch, giving Hermione a sympathetic look as she crossed her legs over one another. "I sort of heard most of your conversation with Ron…mostly because I was eavesdropping." She grinned lightly for a moment before dissolving it. "I'm sorry. I know he can be a bit of a pain in the ass, Hermione."

"_A bit_?" She grunted.

Lavender let out a few giggles at that. "It'll go away, Hermione. Just see. He's going to realize that everyone else is moving on with their lives after the war and eventually so will him. I just expect he needs to hit rock bottom before that happens, though. Don't lose faith in him, or in what you've got."

"Ron and I don't have anything," Hermione clarified for the redhead's ex-girlfriend. "That ship sailed recently, actually."

One would expect Lavender to be thrilled about that, but she really wasn't. Considering everything they'd gone through, Lavender figured there was no use in holding grudges against Hermione. After all, Ron had been claimed territory and everyone had known it. (Even if Ron and Hermione hadn't themselves then.) "I'm sorry, Hermione. I know how much you liked him."

"I assumed you would like to see him suffer after everything he did to you, Lavender," Hermione said straightforwardly and drifting from the previous conversation. "Yet you seem quite sympathetic for him which, honestly, surprises me."

Lavender shrugged, appearing casual and unstirred. "I can't hold grudges against him forever, even as much as I wanted to back then. Besides, I saw him get hexed by a few Death Eaters during the battle and that made me feel loads better."

Hermione gave a nod and decided it was best to drop the subject entirely. Both of them had suffered heartache from Ronald Weasley, there wasn't a need to keep talking about it. "What do you think of the Marriage Law?"

"I think it's great!" She replied happily. "I really do hope it gets Seamus away from that bloody Ravenclaw he's always bitching about. I've been trying to do it since last year but no luck, so this just came at the right time for me."

"That's awful, Lavender." Hermione chuckled as her classmate smirked to herself.

The blonde girl shrugged. "He never had a chance with that perfect Prefect, anyway." She peered up at Hermione, her smirk leaving. "And you? What do you think about the new law?"

Hermione shook her head, all humor gone as she slapped her back against the back of the couch. "I'm terrified."

And with good reason; she had no idea what was in store for her the next morning. Or how much that was going to change her life.

**X**

One by one, all walking towards their doomed destination, a selected group of students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were bombarded with happy greetings as they helplessly dragged their feet into the Great Hall.

"Welcome, welcome."

"Pleasure seeing you all today. Good morning." The Minister smiled brightly at the students filing in, trying to sound as encouraging as he could.

Ron grunted, dropping himself onto one of the few long benches in the room. "Yeah, yeah. Don't think it's a pleasure seeing you, Kingsley."

Coming around from behind the redhead, Hermione tried to be as polite as she could be and smiled in return to the familiar face of the Minister. "Good morning," she said sweetly, smacking Ron behind the head for his lack of manners before taking a seat next to him.

All the benches in the Great Hall were arranged in a horizontal row to face the lonesome stool that held the Sorting Hat. The tool that was going to lead them to slavery with someone else tied to the ball and chain that was not welcomed by them.

After smiling in greeting at the brunette, Kingsley then turned that grand smile to the face couple walking into the Great Hall. "Good morning, you two," he said in a friendly manner. "My, Ginny, you seem in a better mood."

Ginny glared as Harry pulled her by the hand to the bench where his best friends were. "I can't believe you're still standing." She hardened that frown. "I owled George and specifically told him to poison you when you were over for dinner yesterday. Apparently, I wasn't taken seriously."

Kingsley raised an eyebrow, sighing. "I doubt murdering the Minister would help at all, Ginevra."

"It was worth a try," the girl said, shrugging as she sat.

Resentfully, the students watched as Professor McGonagall approached the golden owl podium, the one that used to belong to the great Albus Dumbledore, and cleared her throat loudly to get their attention and their silence. "Well, all of you know why you are here, no point trying to fuss over it. The sorting will take place in a few moments after a few more important announcements the Minister has to deliver to you all."

"What else could they possibly say?" Draco Malfoy was heard from a few rows back, even as he whispered it low and privately to the person next to him. "Isn't this madness enough?"

Blaise Zabini crossed his arms nonchalantly, just to give him something to do as he fought the need to walk away from the entire thing. "Who knows, mate. They're probably going to inform us about some sub-law to make us serve community service for the muggles. They're on to us, mind you; it's only a matter of time before they make us do something servant-y like that."

Ending the conversations of speculation, the Minister took lead to speak. "There are a few clauses enclosed to this Marriage Law that are of a vital importance to you all. Deadlines, if you will," he simplified. "Firstly, all of you are to be wed within a year from the moment the sorting ends. You cannot run away or decide to go against the law or the sorting; the law is absolute. If you do try and rebel the consequences will be severe." He gave the students a warning, his dark eyes solemn. "If you do not go through with what is being asked of you, what the Ministry has dictated, you will be ripped away from all your magic, your wand snapped, and be shunned away from the Wizardying Community."

"What_—Come on_!" Theodore Nott whined from his row, looking appalled. "You can't do that! The Ministry has no right to strip a wizard from his magic!"

Kingsley ignored the Slytherin and continued. "Hogwarts will provide a Family Consumer class for all of you starting this afternoon. It's important to teach you to interact with one another as friends, as spouses, and as long-life partners. Also, that's where you will be getting information on the two upcoming tasks of the Marriage Law you are required to complete before the year is up."

Shaking his head with so much disapproval over everything, Neville Longbottom turned to the brunette witch next to him, grumbling. "This sounds like a bloody assignment now."

"Yeah, but I doubt the Brightest Witch of the Age could complete it herself. This is something you can't do from a book," Pansy Parkinson replied to Longbottom, not even giving Hermione the chance to even process what Neville had said to her.

"The sorting will start as of now," the Headmistress spoke up, pushing the Minister away from the podium and taking charge. "And I shall warn you now: no vulgarity will be tolerated without a fair punishment for the one who decides to bring down their spouse. There is a reason why the Sorting Hat will place you together, despite your complaints and whines about all of this, and that's because the two of you are more likely to fall in love and are compatible. The Ministry wouldn't enforce this law if it would cause many of you pain and shame. And take into consideration why the Sorting Hat was created and what type of magic it has."

Feeling a little thankful that Minerva had decided to clear up the Ministry's name, even though all of the students hated all of them at that very moment, Kingsley spoke once more after the Headmistress fell into silence. "All girls bound to this Marriage Law: your name will be called, you will come forward, and you will stand with your soon-to-be spouse." He pulled out a long roll of parchment that contained the names of the ones who would be sorted.

"Hannah Abbot," the Minister called the first name.

"...If I get Ernie McMillan consider me dead," Hannah whispered to her fellow Hufflepuff, and then continued hesitantly to walk towards the front.

Placing the hat on the Hufflepuff's head, everybody waited for a few quick seconds before a name was called out. "Neville Longbottom!" The Sorting Hat shouted loudly.

Hermione and Harry turned to Neville and gaped as he made no action to get up from his seat. Harry looked at their friend warily, but Hermione could see the flashes of exciting emotions crossing the boy's face.

"Merlin," Neville breathed to them. "And to think that all this time I couldn't come up with an 'Oi, you want to go out sometime. I fancy you, you know?' and now I can go ahead and skip the awkward part and marry her." He grinned widely, a goody look in his eyes, and then walked happily towards Hannah who was red in the face.

"Cho Chang!" The Minister called next.

Instantly being flashed backwards to a certain memory she was not fond of, Ginny glared at the Ravenclaw as she made her way towards the stool; shaking with every step. "She better pray to Merlin she doesn't end up with Harry," she whispered furiously to Hermione.

"I doubt the Sorting Hat thinks they belong together, Gin." Hermione patted Ginny's shoulder reassuringly. "Cho was a wreck when Harry met her, remember? They didn't have a very lovely relationship to begin with. And, honestly, they were hardly compatible. I doubt it has changed so far. She needs someone with complete patience, someone not so normal that can tear her away from the grieving bubble she's been caught in for years."

"—Blaise Zabini!" The Sorting Hat bellowed, interrupting Hermione and Ginny's conversation for a moment as the Minister took off the hat from the girl's head.

"Not bad." In the back of the crowd, the called Slytherin shrugged; looking a little impressed with who he'd landed with. "Not bad at all, mates. It could've been worse." Nott flipped him off and Zabini grinned. "I just thank Salazar I'm saved from Millicent Bullstrode. She's all yours now, wankers!"

Contemplating that idea, the Slytherins frowned and groaned, but their house-mate smirked as he marched his way towards Cho Chang with a swagger to his step.

Hermione gave the redhead an all-knowing gaze, nudging her. "See? Zabini seems a bit perfect for her, if you think about it."

Ginny rolled her eyes rudely, not really caring at this point. (Cho was checked off the list, that meant more hope for her and Harry to stay together.)

"Millicent Bullstrode!" Small whispers broke out as the angry-looking Slytherin girl stomped her way up towards the Sorting Hat.

"Two sickles she lands with Malfoy." Seamus laughed from behind; others quick to take on his bet.

"Ernie Mcmillian!" The hat exclaimed.

Ernie's eyes widened in horror at what had just occurred; at his fate and damn luck. He sagged slightly in his seat and almost fell out of it if it wasn't for his friend that settled him. "_What_?"

"Yes!" The Slytherin boys high-fived each other, relief washing over all of them as they thanked whoever was watching over them that they were spared from the Slytherin monster.

"Pay up, mate!" Dean chuckled, urging for his sickles as his best friend snorted.

"Luna Lovegood!" Hermione watched as Harry and Ginny turned and looked for the energetic Ravenclaw at the mention of her name; realizing that they'd not in fact seen her prior. "Luna Lovegood!" The Minister repeated again.

Murmurs broke out and everyone seemed to turn their heads, scouting for the blonde Ravenclaw. "You think she fled?" Parvati Patil was heard whispering, ever the instigator of rumors. "Padma did say she didn't show up for breakfast. And, honestly, it wouldn't be a surprise. Luna's such a baby. How can someone think about marrying _her_?"

Pulling out a letter she'd gotten from Fleur from her pocket, Ginny muttered a spell to it after she rolled it into a ball. Squinting slightly, she threw the ball of parchment and watched as it hit Parvati roughly on the chest. "Shut it, Patil!" The redhead warned as the older girl squealed with pain and looked upset. "That's my best friend you're talking about."

"Where is she?" Hermione asked silently as Harry turned Ginny around and from starting a fight mid-Sorting with their fellow Gryffindor. "Luna wouldn't miss the sorting. Let alone flee, for goodness—"

"Professor, look who I found roaming the gardens!" But before she could even finish her thought, Filch burst through the doors holding a petite blonde by the neck of her robes. "She was out galloping around when she was supposed to be here."

McGonagall gazed down sternly at the Ravenclaw. "Miss Lovegood, would you care to explain why you were out in the grounds when you were ordered, and be-known to you that your presence was required here?"

Luna shrugged innocently as Filch let her robes go, smiling gently at the Headmistress. "I was drawing a few Hippogriffs Hagrid is using for his lesson today, Professor. I am sorry I got distracted and lost track of time, but they did turn out quite good." She showed the Headmistress her drawing pad.

The elder witch rolled her eyes, motioning the girl forward. "Up you go, Miss Lovegood. It's your turn to be sorted."

Hermione grinned a little despite the carelessness of the girl.

Harry, however, was not smiling. He had that look again, that look Ginny and Hermione knew very well. He was worrying, in protective mode all over again. It was no secret that he adored Luna and that she was someone he considered family, even if she was a little odd. But that was the thing: she was eccentric and too innocent. And Harry worried that whoever she was paired with would take advantage of that.

One, two, three seconds past when finally, "Dean Thomas!" was shouted from the Sorting Hat.

And just like in those three seconds it took for Luna to get a fiancée, Harry's worry dissolved. There were only a handful of decent blokes Harry considered to be real gems and true gentlemen, and one of those was Dean Thomas.

"I…I get Luna?" The dark-skinned Gryffindor breathed from his seat, looking and feeling overwhelmed.

Seamus spilled air through his teeth, clucking his tongue and looking a little sympathetic. "I'm sorry, mate. But, oi, it can't be that bad, I mean—"

"Shut up, Seamus." Dean pushed his best mate backwards, full with delight as he raced over to Luna, who was looking over her drawings like a hat hadn't just given her a husband that she should have found until years from now. "Luna we're together!" He said cheerfully at the Ravenclaw.

"That's nice." She smiled dreamily at him, so calm and collected. "Do you reckon I can go outside now?" She asked as she laughed gently when Dean pulled her into a hug.

"Lavender Brown!"

"Good luck," Hermione muttered to the witch as she passed by.

"Ron, you reckon?" Ginny asked aloud to the girl standing next to her.

Hermione shook her head, that possibility was simply not possible. "I doubt she will suffer through that again, it was obvious it did not work the first time."

But as the question of who Lavender Brown was going to be paired off with lingered with a few, it was quickly answered for them in a loud yell of, "Seamus Finnegan!"

Lavender gasped and her eyes were wide as the Minister took the hat off her head. "Yes!" She bellowed with great enthusiasm, jumping off the stool with so much energy, too. "Take that you stupid, ugly Ravenclaw! _I_ win!" She threw her palms in the air and danced in a circle to celebrate an achievement no one knew she wanted.

"Bloody hell," Seamus groaned, looking back to a small group of Ravenclaws Lavender had pointed to, watching as the girl he fancied look a little skeptically at the Brown girl's reaction. Resignation and doom were bitches, and because they were, he stalked his way towards his soon-to-be-wife.

"Ginevra Weasley!" Kingsley read from the list.

Clawing at Harry's hand now, Ginny went pale and looked momentarily horrified. The blood in her veins froze, her skin became numb as her fears came out and shocked her body.

The Boy Who Lived squeezed her hand, looking at her softly and filled with strength. "...Just go, Gin." He kissed her knuckles, trying to get her to absorb his love, and then gently pushed her forward. "It'll be fine, promise."

The entire Great Hall watched the interaction, even the Slytherins felt somewhat of a compassion for them. All of them, every single person in the castle knew how much it meant for them to be together; how much they loved one another and how devastating their separation was going to be for the pair of them.

"Scared, Harry?" Ron asked his friend, sitting supportively next to him now.

"No," he replied in a low tone. "I have complete faith in that Sorting Hat. It always gives me what I really want," he stated as he watched his girlfriend pull on the hat.

And almost like destiny had already made its declaration, a loud and clear "Harry Potter!" just clarified it to everyone.

The entire Gryffindor house clapped loudly as Harry passed them, a giant grin on his face as they all cheered for him and the redhead.

Ginny launched herself to the Minister, embracing him tightly before her new fiancée could reach her. "Oh, I'm so sorry I wanted George to murder you, Kingsley!"

The Minister patted her back, laughing along with her. "It's okay, Ginny, I get that quite often now."

"Harry, we're going to get married!" She cried happily as Harry pulled her away from the Minister, her happiness indescribable right about then.

"I know, Gin, I know." Harry gripped her hand, and they made their way to stand next to Dean and Luna.

"Pansy Parkinson!" The Minister called as soon as he finished smiling from Ginny's happiness; getting on with his duties.

"Bloody hell, my best bet of hitting low was Longbottom and they already took him!" The Slytherin want-to-be Princess groaned as she marched forward, already sensing defeat.

"You still have me, Pans!" Nott shouted after her.

"That's no comfort, you idiot." Pansy shoved the hat down on her head, scowling and tapping her foot as the students observed her.

"Now, two sickles she ends up with Malfoy," the other Patil twin commented, giggling at the uncomfortable look on the Slytherin's face as she waited for the torture to already come.

After a few moments of consideration the hat bellowed, "—Ronald Weasley!"

Hermione's jaw dropped, and a single moment of silence resounded through the walls of the Great Hall.

"_W-Weasley_?" Pansy asked, breaking that silence as she pointed a finger at the redheaded best friend of Harry Potter. "Are you bloody kidding me?!" She threw the hat at the Minister, now yelling. "I can't have Weasley! Do it again!"

"Don't blame us, Miss Parkinson, for the choice the sorting hat made," the Headmistress said to her. "Apparently, you and Mister Weasley are compatible in love and make the perfect couple to withstand a marriage."

Pansy looked disgusted and offended. "Where's my wand," she shouted to herself, shoving her hands into her robe pockets and scouting frantically. "I'll kill myself!"

"Quit being dramatic, Miss Parkinson." Professor McGonagall rolled her eyes and motioned for her to join the rest of the couples. "Mister Weasley, join your fiancée, please."

Ron, a mask of no emotions placed in his face, walked forward without a word or a retort. Not even bothering to give neither Hermione, nor Ginny or Harry for that matter, a glance as he joined the Slytherin willingly. (He wasn't so preoccupied with the idea that he would marry her. After all, it seemed like he didn't feel anything anymore so why bother with the theatrics of it all?)

"Hermione Granger!"

The brunette took a look around the Great Hall as she was called, buying a few more seconds as she did so when her heart started thumping.

If Ron was taken, Harry even, who else would she be compatible with? Those were the only boys she had ever loved—and that was stretching it too far seeing as she'd never exactly been in love with Harry, but still. He was the closest thing she came to an overwhelming connection with other than Ron.

She peeked over at Cormac McLaggen and sighed in defeat, thinking back to how infatuated he had been with her in their Sixth Year. _Maybe he and I can_—she shuddered; not even letting that idea formulated.

And noticing that she had stared at him, Cormac sent her a wink.

She gagged internally at his action and she stomped towards the stool with resignation. Surely she would have preferred to have snaked Seamus Finnegan from Lavender Brown before getting married to Cormac and having to deal with his vile ways, but there went nothing, she guessed.

"Are you ready, Hermione?" Kingsley asked as both he and the Headmistress gave her a concerned look.

"I've no choice, do I, Minister?" She said in a whisper, allowing the Sorting Hat to be placed on her brown curls.

_Not Cormac. Not Cormac. Anyone but Cormac. Not Cormac. Goyle if you want, but not Cormac._

She chanted the same phrase over and over again in her head as she opened her eyes, the seconds ticking so loudly in her ears as the hat still said nothing. She just looked around the Great Hall, noticing the worried glances from Harry and Ginny, and the other expressions of curiosity the other students gave her. All of them were probably wondering who the famous Hermione Granger would end up with, how her story will end, just the same way she was.

Then suddenly, as she scanned the room, her eyes met silvery ones without meaning to. They were so deep and bottomless, profound and enchanting. She had never noticed the shine there was to the Slytherin Prince's eyes without his usual glare before, or how in depth they were. They were actually ardent, beautiful even.

He stared at her too, with no emotion at all, not even with a glint of hatred either. He just looked resigned, alike everyone else in the Great Hall did as the brunette and he exchanged a glance with one another.

_He looks different_, Hermione noted to herself, still observing him like she was a new book she had never read.

And then it happened.

"Draco Malfoy!" The Sorting Hat yelled loudly, stopping Hermione mid thought.

Gasps broke out around the Great Hall, and even Ron seemed to have snapped out of his trance at the name that had been called. Everyone was shocked, everyone was silent. They all turned to face the Slytherin who was suddenly the focal-point. And they all waited for a reaction.

Draco shook his head slightly, unbelieving.

"...He's got Hermione," someone whispered behind him

And then it hit him—this was real. "Fuck my life," Draco muttered through his teeth, sticking to his place determinedly; not daring to move.

Not paying more attention to that boy, the Headmistress turned to the girl still seated at the stool. "Hermione?"

"I'm going to…I'm going to—" Hermione slid off the stool in a swift yet slow movement, her cheek colliding with the cold marbled-floor before letting the blackness engulf all around her.

She was Draco Malfoy's fiancée.

Fuck her life indeed.


	3. The Five Facts

**Chapter Three**

Marching up and down a short space in the corridor outside of her next lesson, Hermione was a ball of fury to be reckoned with in that moment. If it was bad when Ginny Weasley was ranting about, it was even worse when the Brightest Witch of the Age was doing it. That was a common fact passed around Hogwarts, and it's why her fellow Gryffindors and friends said nothing as they just watched her stomp about; their sympathy with her in silence.

"I can't believe Kingsley would allow that bloody Sorting Hat to place me with Malfoy!" She stomped her foot in a very uncharacteristic manner. "He knows how much Malfoy hates me! Why would he allow it?!"

Ginny cleared her throat awkwardly, not knowing if her next move would be the right one. She hadn't known what to say during all of the brunette's ranting the past few minutes, and every time she would attempt to say something, Hermione would curse Merlin and stomp her foot again that everything was silenced immediately. "Well, Hermione, if you think about it, the Sorting Hat was created to put people where they belong. Perhaps, it thought you and—"

"NO!" Hermione bellowed, stopping her friend mid-sentence before she could get out that ridiculous idea. "It's Malfoy, Ginny. Malfoy! I would rather snog Cormac and have lots of McLaggen babies!" Though she said this, probably even hoped for it at the current moment, she knitted her eyebrows in disgust at the thought of having Cormac McLaggen's hands roam her body. (It was enough to make her pass out again.)

Pushing his back off the marble wall of the corridor, Ron made himself noticed amongst the throng of friends when he said bitterly, "would you quit your bitching?" He narrowed his blue eyes at her, not amused or sympathetic to her at all. "All you've been doing is complaining since you regained consciousness again. Get over it, why don't you. It won't be the bloody end of the world."

"Ron, don't—"

"I have Pansy Parkinson, and she's like a Malfoy female version, and I'm not causing such a commotion," the redhead went on, ignoring the halt Harry was about to give him. He proceeded to stare at his best friend with irate eyes, ignoring the scowl that his sister was giving him in warning of a line he was about to cross. "It might have escaped your notice, Hermione, but life isn't always fair. Deal with it."

Silence rung among the corridor as Hermione inhaled shakily. She looked at her friend with tears burning in her sockets, feeling small and like a fool.

She wasn't looking for attention, that much had always been obvious, but she didn't think she deserved the punishment of landing with Malfoy. Merlin, no one deserved that punishment. The fact that Seventh Year would be over quickly and she would never have to see his pale face, along with all the others that had caused her problems in her years in the castle, any longer was what got her up in the mornings. And now, by the command of some damn law and because of what a damn Sorting Hat said, she'll be sleeping with the Slytherin Prince?

Someone point her to the nearest loo so she can upchuck her breakfast.

"So," Seamus cleared his throat, looking between his house-mates uncomfortably, "Dean and I've got a bet going that Millicent Bullstrode will end up overpowering McMillan within a week. So be prepared, mates. If any of you see him limping by, or hear him screaming in the night, you can bet Millicent broke his wand." He snickered awkwardly, trying to ease the tension. "If you get what I mean."

Beside him, Lavender gave him a very disapproving stare. "That's terrible, Seamus," she scolded. "Millicent is probably a really lovely witch. We've just never given her the chance—"

"Oi, no." Seamus interrupted her, putting a hand up to silence her. "You know what's terrible? That bloody hat took my chance to get to know the witch of my dreams! She was going to be the mother of my children!"

Lavender glowered. "She wouldn't have given you the time of day anyway, Finnegan. You are too much of a bloody idiot for any Ravenclaw to find some interest in you." She took a dangerous step, eyes narrowing. "And bring her up one more time, you git, and I'll make sure you never have children."

As Seamus' eyes went agape, Dean took over to ease the new tensed situation that arose. He put an arm around Luna's shoulder casually, like he had all the right in the world to do so, like it belonged there, and smiled. All the while Luna looked at the ceiling, her eyes unfocused as she was possibly in her own little world. "Settle down now, you two. Despite this, you two have always been very good friends. Don't go ruining that friendship over something you can't change."

"If all of you are done with the chatter—" Professor McGonagall stepped out of the classroom, giving all of the students an impatient frown before Lavender or Seamus could make amends. "Your first Family Consumer lesson will begin shortly. Now, all of you get inside to your partners and sit in one of the single tables." And with those instructions, the new Headmistress stormed back inside into the classroom.

With his constant frown, Ron didn't spare anyone a look as he marched after his other friends.

"Don't mind him, Hermione." Ginny and Lavender both placed a clutch on either one of her slender arms. "He's going through a lot."

"I'll give him something more to go through," she hissed in a low, menacing voice as the girls led her into the classroom. She was done with Ronald. "And it'll hurt."

Coming from behind her, Harry wrapped one arm around her waist as he leaned towards her ear. "We'll take a table near you, Hermione. Just to be safe, okay?"

Walking hesitantly, frowning at how quickly she got there, the brunette arrived at a single table that had already been claimed by a pale, pointed face Slytherin with cool and blank silver eyes. Hermione sighed in defeat as she pulled out a chair for herself in front of the Slytherin Prince like they were about to have tea together and chat about good old times. "I can't believe this," she muttered to herself.

"You think you have it bad?" Malfoy scoffed in a low voice, glaring now as he caught the devastation and disgust in the Gryffindor's face.

Before Hermione could question his remark, Professor Flitwick levitated himself onto a stack of ancient books so he was perfectly visible to everyone. "Welcome to your first lesson!" He exclaimed excitedly, though his eyes looked concerned at all of the odd couples before him.

And there really were strange couples at that: Parvati Patil and Gregory Goyle, Ron Weasley and Pansy Parkinson, Theodore Nott and Romilda Vane, and, the scariest of them all, Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.

"Now, today we will start with something fairly simple," the professor continued. "Since today is still a bit of a shock and most of you are being acquainted still, not to mention that the Ministry doesn't want to stress the lot of you until details of the law are fully developed, the lesson for today will only be a few minutes long. You're to find out five required facts about your partner." He smiled again, thinking to himself the disaster this would be. He only had hope for the future Potters, Thomas', and Longbottoms. The rest were a miracle in the making.

"It's advised that all of you actually try. Remember that you will be marrying this person, after all," the Headmistress added, motioning them to start.

Groaning internally, Hermione turned to face Malfoy. "…So, do you want to go first?"

Draco Malfoy peered up at her, his cold gray eyes glaring roughly. Almost as if he thought he could cause the Gryffindor Princess to explode with a blink of his eye if he wished. Too bad for him, however, that he was being watched and the Ministry was detecting every spell his wand spewed out, or else he would have cursed her teeth in. "Of course," he sneered as he sat taller in his chair. "One, I hate you. Two, I hate you. Three, this is completely mental. Four, you aggravate me. And fifth, I hate you."

Instant anger swelled up in Hermione's stomach.

"Nice try, Mister Malfoy." Professor Flitwick clucked his tongue at the Slytherin as he came from around their back, inspecting the situation. "Start all over. And be more respectful to your fiancée, if you please."

Draco rolled his eyes and Hermione clutched onto the edge of the table with all her strength. She already felt the pieces of wood dispatch from each other as she focused all her internal-anger there. "Well, don't I feel blessed," she spat sarcastically after the Charms teacher made his way to Ginny's table. "Merlin himself couldn't have done a better job and marrying me off with you. I feel like the luckiest witch of my generation."

"You're going to taint my good name, Granger." He intended to call her a Mudblood, but after the war no Pureblood ever seemed to dare to say it anymore. Not even him—though it would always attempt to slip out from time to time.

"Good?" She snorted mockingly. "You'll be lucky if I restore some decency into it. I doubt that the Wizardying World will ever see the Malfoy family with any respect again, and you know it. Your _dear_ mother will be fortunate if she ends up being somewhat accepted in a moments time, Malfoy. We aren't the type to forget our manners and thank her for saving Harry's life."

Draco's nostrils flared up in anger and beneath the table he fisted his hands. He was not going to let the Gryffindor get the best of him, he was demanded to interact and be a part of the Wizardying World once more. It was up to him to repent his family's mistakes, and he wasn't going to let her ruin that.

"Let's get started, okay. I have to finish my Potions essay and I don't want to spend any more time with you than what's required." He leaned his back against the surface of his chair, trying not to frown at the female portion of the Golden Trio. "When I was five, my father bought me my first broom."

Hermione raised her brow at his sudden cooperation, a little disappointed if she might say. She wanted nothing more for Malfoy to give her an excuse to hex him, but she couldn't deny that they did need to complete this task. All she had to do was pretend it was an assignment, it was for her education. She would just have to block out the fact that she would be marrying him later, but that's when George Weasley would smuggle her in a bottle of Firewhiskey. (She was sure Ginny would inform the Weasleys that she was going to spend the rest of her eternity with Draco Malfoy that they'll comply to liquor her up.) "I'm the only child," she said forcefully.

He nodded. "I'm an only child as well, but of course you knew that."

"My favorite color is purple."

"I have seven house-elves." His eyes tinted darker and he gave her a smirk. Just because he was trying to finish the task didn't mean he couldn't have fun while doing it. It was always his personal challenge to make the insufferable bookworm aggravated and fuming throughout the day.

Hermione's hand slipped from the wood as her anger boiled again. Just when things were going somewhere he had to ruin it by being the same malicious boy from the past. "I enjoyed slapping you Third Year. It reminded me how much you exactly are full of shit."

He raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by her language. "I prayed to Merlin that the basilisk would just skip the Petrifying part and just eat you. It would have done well for the world to get rid of another know-it-all."

Another fist was slammed on the surface of the table. "At night I like to wonder how glorious life would've been if Snape had never saved you from the Sectumsempra spell Harry accidentally sent your way."

"How I hoped Auntie Bella would have finished you off."

Hermione threw the chair back, making it slide on the floor as she stood. "I hate you!" She shouted, pulling out her wand and directing it to his face.

"The feeling is mutual, Granger!" Draco stood as well, his wand already pointing at the Gryffindor before anyone could react.

"Mister Malfoy! Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall hissed as the classroom went deadly quiet, everyone turning to the fighting couple. "Lower your wands and sit back down! This is not the way to behave! You two are Seventh Years, for Merlin's sake, you aren't Third Years anymore!"

"Lower your wand, Granger," Malfoy spat threateningly, his hand tightly wrapped in his own wand.

"Hermione," Harry spoke from his place, glancing at his best friend with care, "just clam down, alright?"

"You marry Malfoy then!" Hermione yelled at him, not moving her wand an inch as she did. Her eyes focused on the Slytherin, debating the spell in which she could blow his blonde hair away from his thick head without drawing out too much blood.

"Oi, Granger, quit being a lunatic and drop the wand!" Pansy Parkinson spoke from across the table she was sharing with Ron.

"Shut it, Parkinson!" Ginny growled defensively.

"See what you've done?" Malfoy spoke to the brunette with a sarcastic, scolding tone. "Causing a battle between the Houses when the Headmistress specifically mentioned that it wouldn't be tolerated anymore. Do you feel better now, Granger?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, not moved.

"Lower your wand, Miss Granger," McGonagall repeated.

"Come on, Hermione," Harry also pressed.

The brunette inhaled deeply, feeling all the pairs of eyes boring into her back as she felt something snap inside of her. "Fine!" She blurted, grabbing her schoolbag. "You want my magic? Take it! I'm a Muggle-Born! I know how to survive without it!" She tossed Professor Flitwick her wand.

"Miss Granger—"

"No!" She felt her cheeks burn with fury. "I rather be a lesbian and marry Lavender Brown than have to intertwine my life with the Bouncing Ferret!" She pushed her chair back in and stalked her way out of the classroom.

As Harry and Ginny called for the brunette, another one of their house-mates did so too as he stood from his chair. "Wait! Hermione!" Seamus held on to Lavender's arm. "You can have her! Take her!"


	4. Boycott the Bouncing Ferret

**Chapter Four**

"Hermione!" Forgetting her soon-to-be husband at the entrance, Ginny pushed and shoved her way into the Great Hall like she was in the Quidditch pitch; with great force and causing others pain. Her eyes had zeroed in at the one person sitting in the Gryffindor table that she was seriously concerned for—especially if that person had stormed out of a lesson raving about.

Lowering her mouth onto a spoon-full of potatoes, Hermione didn't bother to look up from her plate when she casually said, "breath, Ginny. You'll overwhelm yourself."

"Are you mental?" Ginny disregarded her and slammed a palm on the table, startling a few First Year Gryffindors. "How could you just walk out like that?"

"Easy, actually," Hermione shrugged, "I moved my legs and they took me to the library."

The redhead rolled her eyes as Harry came from behind her, placing a calming hand on the small of her back. "You shouldn't have reacted that way, Hermione," Harry said sternly, sounding the way the brunette always did when she was about to scold him over the things he was doing wrong. "I know that the idea of," he leaned forward, whispering so the younger students would not hear, "marrying Malfoy is terrible, but you can't do anything about it. You said so yourself, we must obey the law." He took a seat next to Ginny.

"So, marry the enemy?" Hermione frowned at her best friend. "Is that really the solution, Harry? _I_ think not." She pushed her plate forward. "I am not going to spend eternity with Malfoy. Don't you know what the legal bonds magical weddings consist of?" She pulled out a book from her schoolbag that rested by her feet. "This isn't like a muggle wedding, Harry. When they say 'til death do you part' they actually mean it. Look here!"

Sighing, Harry reached for the thick book Hermione was handing him. It was in cases like these that it was best to obey Hermione without retort before she started smacking you with her books. And everyone knows Hermione Granger isn't a light reader.

"Magical Weddings are the ultimate bond that can tie a witch and wizard together when performed. The ceremony ejects the core magic from the two participants, tying the two different essences to become one and unite the souls for all eternity. An unbreakable connected is then born." Harry's green eyes gazed up at his friend after reading the passage, an eyebrow raised. "So, no divorce?"

"Not unless you want to die," Hermione huffed, stuffing another spoon of mash-potatoes into her mouth. "And if it comes down to that point, I don't mind sacrificing Malfoy."

Ginny snorted. "You're being ridiculous, Hermione."

"That's rich," the brunette retorted, her eyes narrowing at the redhead. "So when you were protesting this Marriage Law it was all fair, and now that I do it it's ridiculous? Well how horrid of you, Ginevra—of both of you. So let me clarify something for you two, since you two don't seem to understand the dilemma." She stood from the bench, pulling the strap of her schoolbag over her shoulder. "Draco Malfoy and I have been enemies since we were eleven years-old. He has tried many times to make my life a living hell and curse me to my death. Now, I don't know what else can make me behave so _ridiculously_, but I don't want to marry a wizard who will try to poison me as an anniversary gift!"

That silenced Harry and Ginny right up. Neither said anything as she threw them another almighty frown, those famous, scolding, judging ones she was known for, and then spun on her heels to exit the Great Hall.

She was not being ridiculous. Hermione knew that much about this entire ordeal. She was always level-headed and knew when there were things that she couldn't change and she just needed to go along with them, but this could not—and will not—be one of them. She was always trying to follow the rules, to obey everything that was thrown at her, but if those rules were going to lead her into the arms of a convicted Death Eater, and her worst enemy, she was about to revolt. She wouldn't let her life be wasted away just so she could have tea with Lucius Malfoy and have a debate on how her blood was certainly not filthy because what a damn law and a Sorting Hat dictated.

She scoffed, already able to see a house-elf scrubbing the things she touched, disinfecting them because of what the real Masters would say. She was a Mudblood after all, and they would be trained to hate her, she knew it. And that was something she could not even begin to fathom: that one day she'd be the next Mistress Malfoy.

She really would've preferred Cormac right about now.

"Miss Granger." As Hermione turned the corner to head out to the grounds, a voice called from a classroom. "I'd like to have a few words with you."

Hermione cleared her throat uncomfortably. Her eyes danced around for a few milliseconds before she found the courage to look the woman in the face. "Forgive me, Headmistress, but I've an Astronomy lesson I really need to prepare for."

"Don't worry, Miss Granger, with your brains I'm sure you can do just fine without any preparing. Now, if you please, join me inside. I'd like a few words with you," McGonagall repeated sternly.

Hermione sighed. "Of course."

If the situation had to come down to her expulsion, she wondered if she would burst into tears of misery or happiness. Hogwarts did mean a lot to her, but she just couldn't do what they were demanding. Not unless they re-sorted her. But if that wasn't possible, then there was no choice. She would give up her magic.

A light bulb went off at the side of her head as an idea came to mind. She could declare herself a Squib! And maybe, with some persuasion, hand her magical essence to Filch with the promise that he will make Malfoy's life a living hell for her. (Now, that is something she could live with.)

"Firstly, Miss Granger, " the Headmistress motioned for her to take a seat on the nearby desk, "I would like to say that I am very disappointed in you. That was no way to behave and act towards a fellow classmate. Nor do I condone the way you disrupted a Ministry lesson, for that matter." She gave Hermione a hard look, one that she was so used to. "What seems to be the problem, Miss Granger? I was under the impression that you, being who you are specifically, could handle anything."

"You're marrying me off to Malfoy," Hermione pronounced every word carefully, sounding incredulous that she was being asked what the problem was. Was everyone honestly against her and her happiness? Did no one else see the disaster her unwanted engagement to Malfoy was?

"I'm aware of that that, Miss Granger; I was present at the sorting."

Hermione tried not to scowl at the professor. "I'm going to be direct with you, Headmistress: I will _not_ marry Draco Malfoy. And if the price to pay is giving up my magic, I will do it to save my life from a fated doom."

"In other words," the Headmistress folded her hands on top of her desk, "you're a quitter." She watched as Hermione's jaw dropped slightly and her eyes filled with sudden tears at the harsh accusation. "Let me be direct with you, Miss Granger. I do personally think that you are being a quitter because you've a choice to make this work into your advantage and you choose not to. You're letting a few differences get in the way of your future marriage. I was under the impression you were all up for unity, Miss Granger. I strongly believe that the marriage between you and Mister Malfoy could have a potential to be revolutionary. Break the barriers that the war has left."

"…You want me to sacrifice myself?" Hermione mouthed with a few tears slipping. McGonagall's words hurt her more than she thought. The fact that the greatest witch she knew was telling her that she was a disappointment was enough for her own pride to decrease and wither.

"What exactly is the sacrifice, Hermione?" Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrow at her student. "The sacrifice you'd be making is giving up your magic. Something that made you grow and gave you all that you have now. You wouldn't be the Brightest Witch of the Age without magic.

"You wouldn't have Harry, Ron, Ginny or any other Weasley if it wasn't for magic. And if you're giving up, you are giving _them_ up. Once the magic is ripped away from your essence you can never see them again. A muggle must not know the existence of the supernatural, hence they never existed for you—you never existed to them." She dropped her firm expression and replaced it with a motherly-stare. "Can you do that, Hermione? Can you give it all up because you refuse to try with Mister Malfoy?"

Hermione closed her burning eyes. Every memory she had in the Magical World began to play behind her close eyelids. She could see it all, feel and see them all. She could see herself, short and bushy-haired, stepping onto Platform Nine and Three-quarters for the first time; she could still remember the curiosity she felt upon seeing all the other students. She remembered her sorting, her first night, befriending Harry and Ron, their adventures. She could see herself being twirled by Viktor Krum during the Yule Ball, the kiss they shared, starting the D.A., Slughorn's Slug Club—she could see everything flash before her eyes.

"…No," she breathed. "I can't. I can't give it up." She could never imagine that everything she has gone through could be erased from her. To have seventeen years go blank and missing.

Professor McGonagall nodded, a small smile of relief appearing on her wrinkly expression. "Mister Malfoy," her voice was a bit higher now that she didn't sound so grave, "will you please come in here now?" Her bespectacled eyes looked to the entrance of her Transfiguration classroom.

Hermione inhaled deeply and turned to see a tall figure emerge into the classroom. His platinum-blonde hair contrasted from the hue of his robes and his silver eyes remained blank and hidden with the shadows of the room for a few moments until he was fully in light of the candles burning close to the desk that belonged to the professor.

"Now, I will leave you two alone for a few moments." The Headmistress began to stand from her chair. "You are to redo today's assignment from your Family Consumer lesson correctly. And I want to know that both of you have tried." She turned her small eyes to gaze at the Slytherin. "You _will_ try, Mister Malfoy, because I will not have this conversation with you again. You are old enough to know what is best, don't be foolish." And that was all that was heard from her as she closed the door behind her.

Hermione sat in silence.

McGonagall had spoken to Malfoy already? About what? It had to be something entirely different because no Pureblood would ever give up their magic, right? Unless he was asking for the death penalty. And that would be lovely.

"We better get started." Draco conjured up a spare chair and screeched it to face Hermione and sat himself down smoothly. "I think I should go first, Granger." And the way he was speaking, the way he looked at her, the way he acted made her feel like she was being mocked. He was too casual, too indifferent compared to the infuriated boy that was shouting at her a few hours prior.

"Take your go then," she replied in a murmur.

He nodded. "Well, growing up I always wanted a sibling. It wasn't fun to be the only child in a giant mansion with only house-elves to play with."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek and her eyes focused roughly on the tabletop. "When I was six I mentally scarred a boy in my muggle-school when I accidentally turned an animal book into life figures. A lion tried to claw him from inside of its pages."

Malfoy gave a small chuckle, and it wasn't due to the image. It was at the mention of the Mudblood in her muggle-school: one single little girl in a classroom with a group of insignificant others and she was the superior one. "As a child, I liked to climb the tallest trees and pretend I was a giant until—"

"Until your father mentioned it was a disgrace in being a half-breed?" The words slipped out of Hermione's mouth without thinking.

"No," Malfoy tried not to hiss. "I fell off of one of the branches and broke my arm. As a lesson, my father refused to fix my arm for two hours until I redeemed myself for breaking his rules."

"Oh." Hermione exhaled, feeling quite foolish. "Erm, well, my dad pulled out three of my teeth at the same time," she said awkwardly.

Malfoy laughed mockingly at that.

"Piss off," she grunted in return.

And seeing as her commented needed to be cancelled on, which would be the polite thing to do, he said, "my mother is the most important person in the world for me."

Her eyes widened slightly at his confession. And because she looked bewildered he was about to correct himself, she could tell, but she was not going to let him take it back. It was out there and it was the most human thing Malfoy had ever said. "I get it, your mother means a lot to you. No need to get all red about it. My mum's important for me as well…When I cast a memory charm on my parents last year, to keep them from harm, I went to look for them after the war was over and it hurt when I saw her….She didn't recognize who I was. Her brain never registered the fact that she had a daughter and that she was looking into her eyes...Knowing that the person that means the world to me didn't know who I was….was so heartbreaking."

Draco watched as the Gryffindor lowered her brown eyes back on the table, not really looking at him anymore. Her expression trying so hard to keep its pride, there was no crying in front of the enemy.

"You have a great upper-hand, Granger," he said quickly, not wanting this to be an emotional moment and make it more uncomfortable than what it already was. He was just her fiancée, not her shoulder to lean on or her barrel of secrets. "I was shocked when you slapped me in our Third Year, it left a bruise."

"It's all the writing." Hermione grinned, the memory of her palm colliding with Malfoy's cheek playing in her head. (Oh, she could have never given that away. She could still hear the SMACK. It was beautiful.) "I think that you made a very charming ferret."

His silver eyes grew annoyed at that, but his mouth was still pulled into a smirk. "And if the rumors are true, Granger, you made a perfect kitten in Second Year. Maybe you shouldn't be marrying me; you could give your fluffy beast a chance."

"Crookshanks is not a beast, Malfoy." Hermione frowned. "And it was Millicent Bullstrode's fault."

"Right." Malfoy rolled his silver eyes.

"Oh, fall off a tree, Malfoy," Hermione hissed.

"Anyway," Draco leaned against his chair, "my last fact before I can go back to my dormitory is this: I think we should try keeping it civil from now on."

"Because we have no choice?"

"That, and because it'll be better for both of us if we did," he explained further. "I don't want McGonagall tearing me out of my lessons, nor wasting my free time to scold me about this. Nothing's going to change, just like she said."

Hermione inhaled a little puff of air, watching him carefully. "I do hate you, Malfoy," she said sincerely, "you're vile and cruel, and I don't think there's an ounce of decency in you, but I suppose you're right. I'm not giving up my magic because of that."

Malfoy gave her a solemn nod. "So, do we have a deal?"

"As if we have another choice," the Gryffindor huffed, extending out her hand.

Draco Malfoy's eyes looked at the pink palm uncertainly. It was up to him, like McGonagall said, to make the most effort. If he wanted to have any chance of restoring his family's name and gain acceptance in the Wizardying World again he was going to have to learn to get along with the Know-it-all Granger.

"Don't think we are friends or anything, Granger." He shook her hand, trying not to let the warmth of it impact him.


	5. The Weasel King

**Chapter Five**

"Goyle!" Draco Malfoy hissed as his body collided with the wide Slytherin in front of him, knocking the latter onto the ground. "Will you watch where you are going?" He glared at his oldest comrade and took a step away from him so he could get some space. "What are you even doing?" He raised his eyebrow at the Slytherin tossed on the floor, peeking through a gap in the wall.

Gregory Goyle fixed his robes quickly, and tried to look casual as he jumped up to his feet. "Nothing," he said in a low voice.

"He's looking for his bride—" The corridor wall parted in many sections and out came a dark-haired witch, emerging straight from the Slytherin Common Room. Her dull dark-eyes gleaming annoyingly as she positioned them at the two boys in front of her. "Goyle has taken a fancy for Padma Patil." Pansy Parkinson smirked pushing a strand of hair back. "He loves to waste his spare time gazing at the girl. It's his new hobby, you know?"

Goyle glared. "Why don't you piss off, Pans?"

Draco rolled his eyes as Pansy's widened at the comeback the dimwitted Goyle had come up with. (Never, in the years they've known each other, did Gregory Goyle respond back to any insult. Draco felt a bit of pride for his ex-crony.) "Leave the bloke alone, Pans. He just fancies the Gryffindor."

"I thought she was the twin Ravenclaw?" Pansy pushed Goyle's comment to the back of her head. "Do you even know what house she is in?" Pansy turned back to Goyle as Malfoy shrugged, indifference in his face like always.

"Does it matter?" Goyle said, shrugging along with Malfoy. "I have to worry about telling them apart. If I jump from Pavarti to Padma, there might be a huge problem once the bond is created. I can't go touching my wife's sister." He shook his head and stalked away from the corridor. Mumbling about food and how Crabbe would've understood more than them.

Malfoy would've agreed on that, but seeing as Vincent Crabbe was dead from his own thick curse, he ignored it and turned to Pansy. Automatically trying his hardest to push back the thoughts of the war from invading his head and not coming out without a fight. (…He didn't need to have flashbacks about the day he almost died and lost everything when he was about to go eat; that always spoiled his eggs.)

"Oh, sacred Salazar," the Slytherin witch shivered, sticking out her tongue and wiping it on her sleeve, "I just envisioned Goyle…._touching _people. It was disgusting." She shook her hair rapidly. "I'm not sleeping at night now."

"I wager your husband can help you with that." Malfoy smirked, teasing the girl.

Pansy gave a loud snort.

"How are things between you and the weasel?" The blonde Slytherin asked, leaning against the corridor wall as if he was genuinely interested.

"I wouldn't know." Pansy laced her arm through Draco's, not really caring herself that he was not in fact asking because he wanted to know. "The Gryffindor Sidekick doesn't talk much. Well, no, he doesn't really talk at all." She knitted her eyebrows in confusion, pulling Malfoy with her; both of them following the path in which Goyle left in. "I insulted him quite a lot, you know, the usual, but nothing. He doesn't even turn red in that freckly face of his. He just stares into nothing, and at times I have to check if he's breathing."

"Brain damaged, I'd say, but that's been going on for years now. Since birth, probably." Malfoy chuckled.

"I wish that was the answer, at least I'd know." Pansy rolled her eyes. "But it seems that the Weasel King has actually lost it. I've even been _polite_ to him and that didn't even get a reaction." Her memory filled with the blank expression of the redhead; her palm swaying back and forth in front of his face.

If Pansy would've been born with a heart—or a small fragment of it—she would have been full-on worried. But seeing as she was never going to develop such emotions, and that she was aggravated that the old hat placed her with the Weasel King in the first place, she was just planning on hexing him directly on the nose if he continued it. She did not appreciated being ignored, especially not by his kind.

"You should try speaking with him," Draco suggested half-sarcastically. "What are you going to base your marriage on without any communication?"

Pansy glared, her eyes kept forward. She knew better than to frown at the Slytherin Prince, even if the penalty was a simple, infuriate glare. "I expect your marriage with the Mudblood to be a success, then," her voice dripped with cynicism.

Malfoy stopped on his tracks, shoving Pansy's arm away from his and pushing her towards a wall roughly. "What did you say?" His gray eyes pierced hers, anger swimming all around his orbs.

Pansy huffed against the hold he now had at the center of her chest; pinning her against that cold wall. "My mistake, Draco. I forgot that the word was now truly forbidden. Old costumes die hard, you know?"

"Don't ever say that word in my presence again, Parkinson," Malfoy hissed lowly.

"Care for the bookworm, do you?" Pansy raised her dark eyebrow at the blonde Slytherin. Challenging her house-mate, stepping closer to him with confidence after shoving off his hand. "I wasn't aware you two were chummy now."

"I will not," he gripped her arm tightly once more, letting a group of younger students pass by them, shaking away her nerve, "have you ruining everything, Pansy. I am going to try my bloody hardest to get the Malfoy name some respect in the Wizarding World again, even if it means lowering myself and marrying the Gryffindor. And my attempts of keeping the new peace will _not_ be jeopardized because of one of your slips.

"If you say it, then every other thick Slytherin says it as well and we're back to the beginning." He tossed her arm, causing her to stumble back a bit. "And this time without the Dark Lord to defend us when all the others turn against us."

He stalked past her, breathing in deeply as he headed towards his next lesson. Once the new Family Consumer lesson began later on in the evening, he would begin his formulated plan while still keeping his promise to the Headmistress.

**X**

"Fire! Fire!" A small First Year shouted, racing out of one of the classrooms where the Golden Trio were walking past. "Help!" The little girl shouted, black smoke tainting her face.

But before either of the three passing Gryffindors could react, someone came out from behind the girl. "It's okay," Lavender Brown, cleaning her own face from the smoke, clarified with her wand at hand, "Professor McGonagall placed Seamus as a tutor for the First Years, and obviously something went wrong." She wiped her cheek on the sleeve of her robe. "Turning water into Rum has never been his specialty, you know."

Ron scoffed at his ex-girlfriend. "When has anything been Finnegan's specialty?" His expression was mocking and indifferent as Hermione and Harry scowled at him. "He's sort of like the new Neville. The troll of the Gryffindor House."

"Troll?" Lavender breathed, glaring at her ex-boyfriend in return. "You're certainly one to talk, Ronald." She took a step towards him, shooing the First Year aside. "But as I remember, you were the one they dubbed as the king. Song and all," she hissed in his face, pointing her wand at his chest.

"Lavender," Hermione called the girl's name quietly, surprised by her sudden anger and Ron's hand twitching for his wand. "Ignore him. He doesn't know what he's saying, he's just had a bad day."

"Lay off, Ron," Harry mumbled to his friend, frowning at him.

But ignoring both Harry and Hermione, tired of being silenced by them just because he was expressing his opinions, Ron continued. "You're quite pathetic you know, Lav?" Something dark glowed in his eyes as he spoke. "Being Seamus' defender and all, throwing yourself at his feet while he is cursing his existence, and yours for that matter. Dreading the day he has to bond his soul with you—"

"Ron, stop it," Harry spoke louder this time, his eyes widening behind his glasses as he pulled out his own wand. If Ron couldn't hold his tongue, Harry would have to curse his best friend. (Hopefully hexing out all the cruelty he seems to have developed over the summer.)

"I mean, I would too," Ron pretended not to hear the Boy-Who-Lived, "but then again, you always throw yourself at any bloke that catches your eye that we're all used to it by now. And just like with me, you're going to have to be satisfied being his second best."

"STUPEFY!" Lavender shouted, her eyes watering from every word Ron said.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" Ron whipped out his wand as quickly as Lavender began to wave hers in the air. He sent her wand a few feet down the corridor, glaring at the witch and pointing his wand higher. "LEVICORPUS—"

"PROTEGO!" A clear bubble appeared all around Lavender Brown, protecting her from the levitating charm the redhead was about to send her way to humiliate her with.

"Well," Pansy Parkinson kept her wand pointed at the Gryffindor girl and walked towards the Golden Trio, "aren't you two supposed to be all about friendship and all that rubbish?" She raised her dark eyebrow at Harry and Hermione. "Or did you two want to enjoy the show?"

"I think they were more shocked than anything." Appearing after the Slytherin witch came Draco Malfoy, looking at the group in a bored fashion. "I doubt they ever expected the Weasel to raise his wand at another Gryffindor."

"But I'll be expected to curse you in an instant, Malfoy." Ron waved his wand towards the Slytherin. "I suggest you leave."

"You're unbelievable, Ronald," Hermione huffed, stepping forward and slapping Ron's wand down. "You better hope the Headmistress doesn't find out about your stunt today." She pointed a finger at the retreating First Year. "How dare you speak to Lavender that way?"

"I do what I please, Hermione," Ron hissed. "I don't need scolding from you, that's why I have a mother for. And if I recall, you used to think Lavender was as pathetic as a skrewt. No need to pretend to be the good friend now." He glared at her and then spun on his shoes.

"Weasley really is our king," Pansy said casually, looking at Ron's back as he walked away. "Something is terribly off with that bloke," she clucked her tongue as she turned to the others, "and _I_ have to marry that." She now looked between Lavender and Hermione only. "You two are lucky you got out of it before he became this."

"…He's never like that," Hermione mumbled sadly, sending a worried glance at Harry. "At least, not that we were aware of."

Harry sighed, stuffing his wand back into his robes. "Ron better hope to Merlin that McGonagall doesn't find out about this. She has a very low tolerance for all this rubbish, and she won't put up with it because it's Ron."

"I think he'll be fortunate enough that his _mother_ doesn't find out," Hermione corrected.

"Pans, you should go find your fiancée." Draco cleared his throat, feeling irritated of the way the Gryffindors were speaking. It made him realize that in a near future—and a very near one at that—he would have to endure all these conversations against his will. "Our next lesson is in a few minutes, and I'm sure you need him for it."

"Fine," she sighed, spinning her wand between her fingers. "But if I don't come back, know that the Weasel hexed me to my death." She patted Lavender's arm in what was pity rather than sympathy, and strutted down the corridor.

"Come, Lavender." Harry looked between Hermione and his childhood nemesis, and felt a strange tension between the two and decided to get away. "I'll go take you back to Seamus."

"To hell with Seamus." Lavender shoved Harry's helping hands away. "Ron makes a bloody point. And when I find him, before I murder him, that is, I'll make sure to thank him for opening my eyes."

Harry ran a hand down his hair, feeling uncomfortable. "Don't - Don't talk that way, Lavender."

"Give me your pity, Potter, and you'll be joining your best friend as worm food!" She growled at him, and burst back into the classroom, wiping away her tears before anyone else could see her.

Harry followed uneasily behind her. How he hated that Ginny needed her witch-time and was off somewhere with Luna.

"Are they always like this?"

"Who?" Hermione replied to Malfoy's question, cursing mentally that Harry left her alone with her fiancée.

"You Gryffindors. You seem to be far more enraging than I thought," Malfoy said in a tone that sounded appraising. "I expect some of your lot should've been in Slytherin."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Did you need something, Malfoy?"

The blonde Slytherin shook his head, letting his hair fan over his eyes. "Nothing really, Granger, but seeing as yesterday we did make a deal of keeping it civil, I decided that it would be polite of me if I walked you to our lesson." He watched as the witch raised her eyebrow and he said quickly, "seeing as we have it together."

Hermione looked at the wizard perceptively, she had been wondering all night what drove Malfoy to his sudden cooperation. She knew that the conversation he'd with the Headmistress had something to do with it, because Draco Malfoy would never marry a Muggle-Born willingly, but what was it exactly?

"That is shockingly nice of you, Malfoy."

"I can be at times, Granger." He leered at her hesitance and confusion, and extended his arm out a bit. "You'll come to see that from time to time."

"What?" She scoffed, lacing her arm with his just as politely as she could muster. "Every five years I'll get a 'pass the salt, thank you' from you?"

Malfoy chuckled roughly. "As if you were that fortunate, Granger. No one ever said we are going to be in speaking terms."

"Charming," she huffed as they walked down the corridor.

Disgust written on both their faces as they walked, their arms rubbing with one another as they made the simplest of small talk.


	6. Hermione 'The Child' Granger

**Chapter Six**

"Alright, listen up you lot!" Professor Sprout, the Herbology teacher, entered the classroom with an excited face and a cheery voice. She looked around at the students, gave Neville and Hannah a giant smile, and proceeded to the front of the room. "The Headmistress had some matters to attend to, and seeing as Professor Flitwick does not wish to continue with these lessons, I am in charge for today."

"…I bet he was scarred from the first time you and Granger decided to pull out your wands," Blaise Zabini snickered from Draco Malfoy's left. His fiancée, Cho Chang, was busy taking out a roll of parchment and her bottle of ink to listen to his remark. "I wouldn't want to teach a lesson with both of you in it either."

"And you won't be able to produce children if you don't shut up, Zabini." Hermione, who copied Cho's actions, glared at the dark Slytherin; being able to hear everything he was saying from a few inches away.

Blaise cleared his throat awkwardly. "Stick up for me, mate," he whispered at Draco, nudging him. He gave the brunette Gryffindor an uneasy stare, remembering the damage she can inflict from all the spells she must know.

Malfoy snorted. "What am I, her husband?"

"Now marriage is a beautiful commitment," Professor Sprout began, interrupting the chatter from the two middle tables. "It is a ceremony that one wishes to create when one has found their true love. The Ministry will only allow the marriage to be proceeded if they are certain the two people are meant for one another. Soul mates, if you will."

Hermione's hand shot up in the air, looking at the professor with confused eyes. "Excuse me, Professor, but how can the Ministry be sure of that? That two people are right for one another? It seems to me that they wouldn't know what 'soul mates' actually are if they tossed us all together." She pointed a thumb at her partner.

"Amen," Ernie Mcmillian commented in agreement, scooting his chair away from Millicent Bullstrode as she tried holding his hand. "It's all rubbish. I say the Muggles had the right idea when they created divorce."

The professor gave him a glare and turned back to Hermione. "Well, Miss Granger, to answer your question, there is a way to find out whether that person is the right person for you." She smiled at the student, then turned to look at the Slytherin boy next to her. "With the magical-essence that runs in our veins we are able to conjure up the strong bond between two mates. For example, if Mister Malfoy, after accepting you as his fiancée, starts to feel a certain pull towards you even if he wishes he wouldn't," she gave the two a knowing stare, "means that the connection is in fact there. And if he starts to feel like he can't be without you at a point, then the soul-combining method wouldn't be a problem, since his soul already belongs to you."

Draco tried not to gag at the words the Herbology teacher had just spewed out. "And how can the Ministry verify that?"

"Simple." The Professor smiled. "The truth-telling serum."

"…_Bastards_," Malfoy muttered angrily.

"Professor," Pansy Parkinson raised her hand in the air, copying Hermione. She looked bored and indifferent just as Ron Weasley was, his tall body spluttered on the chair beside her. "I'm sorry, but don't you think we should get taught by someone who has actually gone through this? I mean, it's a bit foolish to have professors who have dedicated their lives to teach and live in this castle and don't have a clue about a marriage to do this."

Millicent Bullstrode laughed roughly at Pansy's remark.

"Well, Miss Parkinson, just because you've decided that you're far better than everyone else in this castle, and decided to have your nose stuck up in the air and not notice that the professors of this school are actually people as well, that is on you." Professor Sprout frowned at the Slytherin girl. "And just to clarify it, I've been married for fifty years now. I think I have experience in this field." She smirked triumphantly. "Now, if you don't wish to ruin your marriage before it begins, not that it would be a surprise to anyone, please pay attention."

Hermione giggled softly at her best friend's fiancée. "Two sickles that Molly will beat the smugness from Parkinson," she muttered to Luna Lovegood, who sat on her left.

"Mrs. Weasley?" Luna shook her long blonde hair, which Dean Thomas had his fingers through. "I doubt she'll be the one. Look at Ginny's face." She pointed a discrete slender finger at Ron's sister. The latter's freckly face was knitted up into a deep frown.

"Anyway, children," the laughter resided as Pansy began to glare at those who were mocking her, "today the Ministry has decided to give you a different task to fulfill before your marriage ceremonies take place."

"Sex!" Theodore Nott chuckled, high-fiving with a nearby Ravenclaw.

"No." The professor looked momentarily shocked. "We will begin to introduce you into the life of living together."

"Living together as in…..?" Blaise raised his eyebrow.

"As in living together, you thickhead," Malfoy responded, growing a bit sweaty around the forehead.

"You are planning to make us _live _together? On our own?" Hermione gawked at the professor. "I demand Professor Flitwick to come back."

"Don't be silly, Miss Granger," the elder woman rolled her beady eyes, "you will be living together in the castle, in your own chambers."

A round of groans and complaints broke out in the classroom.

"Well aren't we fortunate to live in a castle, then?" Hermione muttered without emotion, dropping her head on to the tabletop to wallow in her misery.

She didn't have enough space in her head to count all the chambers in Hogwarts.

**X**

"This wont be that bad, Granger." Draco Malfoy smirked up at the Gryffindor as he dropped his body on the nearby and only bed.

Hermione pressed her back on the closed, almost hoping that she would sink inside of the old wooden door and disappear forever—seeing as that was her only option for freedom because nothing else worked. She had already tried to make a run for it before Professor Sprout handed them the key to this chamber, but Draco was a fast runner; earning him ten points to Slytherin for catching his 'bride'.

"They've got to be kidding me," she muttered frantically.

Draco rolled his gray eyes. "They're preparing us to be a married couple, Granger. Sleeping in the same mattress is required."

Hermione narrowed her eyes, stepping away from her door as soon as the Slytherin suggested she was stupid. "Oh really, you bloody ferret? So you're absolutely comfortable with having me sleeping right next to you? Occasionally bumping into you in the night? Hearing me breathe in my sleep, so close to your perfection?"

"You are making me want to hurl out my chicken dinner, Granger." Malfoy scowled back, sitting up on the bed. "Look, I can understand that your little prude self hasn't shared a bed with anyone who hasn't been the Weaslette for a sleepover, but you have to make an effort to accept this. We are sharing a bed and a room, like it or not."

"_Aha_!" Hermione huffed, throwing her arms dramatically in the air. "I knew I was forgetting an important detail!" She walked over to Malfoy and pulled on the metallic-silver sheets of the bed to then toss them on the marbled floor.

"Granger, what are you doing?" Malfoy asked as he scooted away from her, watching her throw some pillows on the floor now.

"Arranging your bed, Malfoy," she snapped, patting down the sheets on the floor. "You just reminded me that you were known as the Slytherin Whore, and I will not have you and your critters roaming around my mattress. I have kept myself away from your filthiness all my life, I will not start putting up with them because Kingsley decided he hated me."

"You cannot make me sleep on the floor!" Malfoy hissed.

"Want to bet?" She glared at the blonde.

"You're impossible." He glared, sitting himself harder into the mattress and holding on to the ends of it.

"And you are unpredictable!" She shouted. "I don't know what you smoked to have you agreeing with all of this rubbish, but I suggest you get off it!" Her voice was thick with warning. "Cooperation my ass! You're probably planning my death!" She grabbed the handle of her trunk, the one that had magically appeared inside of the chamber as soon as the door closed behind Professor Sprout. It was a signal that the Ministry had decided to make them 'live together' a lot sooner than they were making them believe.

"I'm trying to be civil, Granger, just like we agreed!" Draco stood from the bed, glaring at the Gryffindor. "I'm trying to make this go as smoothly as possible!"

"Well, stop it!" She yelled. "It's freaking me out!" She frowned at him and began to wheel her trunk towards the restroom at the far end. Although she was royally pissed, she had to admit that the Ministry had provided them with great living facilities.

The chamber had been bewitched into a small apartment, with a kitchen, living room, and a bathroom. (Just more places for Malfoy to murder her in, she expected.)

"I suggest you make yourself cozy on the floor before I get out," she added, shutting the bathroom door behind her.

Draco glared at the back of her bushy head. "Bloody know-it-all," he hissed to himself, waving his wand at the sheets on the floor. "Does she honestly think that living with her is going to be easy? She'll be lucky I don't leave her a widow three days into our marriage!" He cast a levitating spell on the sheets and had them float their way back on to the bed. "She wants that Brown girl? Merlin, I'll be lucky if the Ministry decides to give me Filch," he scoffed, gripping the blankets and shoving his wand underneath his pillow.

"Malfoy." The bathroom door closed with a loud BANG. "Your place is on the floor." She glared at his hold on the blankets.

"And I told you, Granger, I'm not sleeping on the floor. If sleeping next to me disturbs you, then I suggest _you_ sleep on the—" He was cut short when Hermione pulled on the blankets. "What are you doing, woman?" He gripped harder.

"On the floor, Malfoy, now!" She bellowed.

"You're such a child!" He growled, trying to mentally figure out how the bloody hell she got so strong.

"I am not a—" THUD! "Ow!" Hermione groaned from the floor. She landed with her cheek plastered on the marbled ground, half of the blankets scattered on top of her.

"Oh, shit," Malfoy snickered, tossing his half aside and knelt forward and looked down at the lump of his fiancée. "Are you okay, Granger?" He asked, a giant smirk on his face.

"You threw me!" She groaned from beneath the blankets.

Draco rolled his eyes, not dropping his smirk. "You're the one who pulled the sheets." He outstretched his arm and pulled on the ripped blankets; pulling them off of her. ( Who said he wasn't considerate?) "It's not my fault your weight out-balanced you."

"Ugh," she gasped, pulling her cheek from the floor. "Are you calling me fat?" She peered up at him, her face immensely red.

"Of course not," he extended his hand out to her, "I'm just simply saying you lost balance."

Hermione stared at the hand with a raised eyebrow. "You know this is considered abuse, right?" She gripped his palm, attaching hers to his; allowing him to pull her off the ground. Their hands clasped together for a second time.

Malfoy grunted. "Granger, living with you for a lifetime will be considered abuse and I'm not whining about it." He fixed her pillow, fluffing it as he let go of her hand. Reminding himself he must cast an antibacterial charm over it later. "Now if you please, we've lessons early tomorrow and I really don't want to waste my precious sleeping time." He scooted back to his place, taking his half of the ripped sheets. "And since sleep will be the only peace in my life from now on, please shut it."

Hermione glared at him, patting down her plain white tank-top. Noticing that Malfoy was still dressed in his school robes, and wishing him to sleep uncomfortably, she gave him her back. Her eyes looking towards the right side of the room. "….You're the child," she mumbled, sending a back swing with her leg and kicking him.

* * *

**AN: So, it's currently Feb. 29th 2012. I published this story God knows how long ago, but now I'm currently in the process of re-editing. I'm doing as much as I can, but for those who are starting to read for the first time, I apologize for the chapters that are still in their original state. I have school now, and I'm using my computer never now. So bare with me.**

**Thank you(:**


	7. Extending the Family Line

** Chapter Seven**

The sun was shining brightly, mixing with the aroma of the trees and the decaying flowers. And as the air roamed around the grounds of Hogwarts, the leaves crackled as they fell carelessly to the ground. Signaling that Fall was just over the horizon, bringing the reminder that soon after it would hit the snow will start covering all that was green.

And as the air and sun rays mixed together, a tiny owl with beautiful silky feathers soared into a window. Onto a chamber from one of the tallest towers in Hogwarts School, carrying a letter attached to its right leg.

He landed carefully and silently on a trunk that sat at the foot of the bed. His circled-eyes looked curiously at the two figures sleeping on the bed as the sun washed over their faces. The girl with the brown hair had a peaceful expression, her left cheek snuggled closely into the chest of the male. His pointed chin on top of her head, an arm wrapped around her waist softly.

Both slept comfortably wrapped around each other.

Brown eyes popped open suddenly, erasing the peacefulness. "What in Merlin—" She slapped her hand on the hard chest, trying to pull herself out. "Malfoy! Malfoy, let go!"

Okay, maybe not.

"Huh - what? I have a wand!" The blonde boy opened his eyes rapidly, shoving his hand underneath his pillow. "What's going on?" His eyes landed quickly onto the girl's face, "oh, it's you," he hissed, pushing her off him.

"Were you trying to suffocate me in my sleep?" She snapped, grimacing as she smelled Malfoy's scent on her white tank-top. "Couldn't you wait until I was up before you tried to murder me?"

Draco glared, his gray eyes hardening. "_You_ were on top of me, Granger."

"Your arm was clutching _me_!"

The dark owl narrowed his small eyes at the couple, getting annoyed at them the more they opened their mouths. So he flew up a few inches, zooming towards them. Squeaking loudly, it tied to get them to focus on him.

Hermione, surprised by the sudden noise, jumped towards Malfoy, pressing her back to the board-frame, her arm touching his.

"And you're suppose to be a vital part of the Golden Trio?" Malfoy scoffed, pointing at the owl. "It's got a message, Princess."

The brunette frowned. "Obviously, Malfoy. Why else would an owl be here? I doubt It wants to become the family pet," she retorted, outstretching her hand out towards the bird. "Thanks for the message," she told the owl, untying the parchment from his leg.

"Read it out loud, Granger." Draco rubbed his eyes, trying to get rid of all the sleep from them. For a moment he forgot that the Gryffindor Princess was sitting beside him and he placed his chin on top of her head, finding it easy as the girl was much smaller than him.

Hermione's brown brows forward together, feeling uncomfortable as Malfoy leaned on her. She sighed internally and decided to ignore it at the moment. It was too early to begin a fight, and the owl was staring at her in a scowling manner. "…Of course," she cleared her throat and began to read.

"_To the Future Mister and Mrs. Malfoy_—" At the same time, both Slytherin and Gryffindor stuck out their tongues in disgust; cringing at the sound of the Slytherin's surname meant for both of them.

_I hope that the first night of the new sleeping arrangement wasn't too much of a problem. As you learned earlier yesterday night, the Ministry has decided that all of you that are affected by the Marriage Law should experience the act of living together before you can actually proceed to the marriage. It's a way to get you to be comfortable around your new Spouse and get to see what they will be like._

_We encourage all of you to maintain patience and practice caution around each other. The person who you're to be married with will be a part of you forever, hence they should not be treated as the enemy. And any acts of hatred towards another will not be permitted and punished severely by a method the Ministry sees fit._

_This letter, besides hoping you well, is to inform you that there are a few deadlines that will be revealed along the course of two months. These deadlines will need to be fulfilled in order to respect the bylaws of the Marriage Law.__ And as a decree of this new law, you are to choose a Marriage Date in two weeks from now. The date for the wedding should be within the school year and not after. This is to ensure that the law is processed and respected._

_No exceptions._

_Have a lovely day,_

_Headmistress McGonagall._

"She cant be serious," Hermione spoke to the owl, ignoring Malfoy's gritting teeth. "How can they expect us to choose a wedding day so soon? We've only been engaged for a week. That woman is losing it." She watched the bird nod its thick neck, and then fly out the open window.

Draco cleared his throat. "Do you, erm, want to choose the date already?" He asked uneasily at the girl.

Hermione exhaled noisily. "What I want is a bath, Malfoy." She shook her head, shooing off his chin and began to jump out of the mattress. "I'll be out in a few minutes." She stopped, her fingers wrapped around the top of her trunk. "Did you…Did you repair the sheets?" She asked, raising her eyebrow at the metallic-colored blankets—both halves sewn back together. "Never mind." She rolled her eyes, pulling her trunk towards the restroom.

Malfoy shook his body as he stood from the bed also; trying to shake off all the germs the Gryffindor must've contaminated him with when she sprawled herself on top of his chest. He gagged and opened the door from the room.

"She better leave a lot of hot water," he crossed the room, slamming the door behind him, "or else none of this will come off." He wiped his arm roughly. "What in the bloody hell!" He exclaimed, registering the fact that he was feeling his bare arm. He looked down to himself and noticed that his school robes were gone and instead he was dressed in emerald pajama pants and a white muscle-shirt. "I was violated!"

A loud scoff invaded the vacant living room. "Don't consider yourself so lucky, mate." Blaise Zabini waved a hand from the small couch, a blanket wrapped around his dark figure and his school robes scattered on the floor beside him.

"What are you doing here?" Draco raised his pale brow.

"Coming up with a master plan to get into the shower with Granger, of course," Blaise said in a casual tone, making Draco let out a hissing sound. Not really stirred by his friend's furious gaze, the dark-skinned Slytherin rolled his eyes and said, "sleeping, Drake, what else does it look like?" He threw a pillow at his friend.

"Why are you sleeping here?" Draco caught the pillow. "Why aren't you in your own chamber?"

Blaise shrugged. "Chang threw me out. She was screaming about me not cooperating with her and refusing to decorate the chamber with her."

"And, what else?" Malfoy pressed, n ot believing that was the only reason.

Sitting himself up, Zabini let out a rough sigh. "I told her if she would like to break-in the bed. And when she told me I was a ruddy troll, I told her she didn't need to get her knickers in a twist I was sure Diggory wouldn't mind wherever he was."

"I'm surprised she didn't curse you." Malfoy scoffed as he walked over to an armchair and sat himself down, his bare feet touching the cold, marbled floor.

"Fortunate for me, I remembered that I had my good mate Draco living a few chambers away."

"Our chambers are separated by a tower, Blaise." Draco commented.

Zabini shrugged. "Alohamora works anywhere, okay?" He glared. "Besides, I had to see how peacefully you and Granger slept. It was quite beautiful. Except for the fact the fact that the blankets were torn and you were still in your school robes, of course."

"It was you?"

"Neat, isn't it? No need to thank me." He grinned, his white teeth gleaming brightly. "Anything to see that smile on your face when Granger snuggled herself onto you."

"Out!" Malfoy growled. "If Chang didn't murder you, I will!"

"I'm so terrified." Blaise stuck his middle finger out to the Slytherin Prince and threw himself back on to the couch, throwing the sheets over his head. "Wake me up when Granger's out of the shower."

** X**

"Good morning, 'Mione." Harry Potter smiled at his best friend, watching her and her soon-to-be husband unlink their arms, frown at each other, and parted ways willingly. "How did it go with Malfoy?" He asked, looking at Malfoy stomp his way to the Slytherin table.

"This is how it went." Hermione flipped her brown curls away from her face, showing Harry the bruise she had found on her right cheek in the morning from the previous night.

"That bloody Ferret!"

"Control yourself, Harry," Hermione spoke at once, grabbing a plate of eggs as she proceeded to explain. "Malfoy didn't touch me, if that's what you're thinking. We just had a row over the sleeping arrangements and I fell to the floor."

Harry steadied himself, putting his wand back on the tabletop. "What was the problem?"

"I wanted him to sleep on the floor," Hermione huffed, waving as Ginny approached the table with her angry-faced brother. "I made him a decent bed on the floor, but he refused, so we ended in a tug-a-war. And obviously, I lost." She pointed to her bruise cheek.

Ginny rolled her brown eyes at Hermione. "So what happened in the end?"

"We slept together," Hermione said roughly.

Ginny laughed loudly. "Was it magical?"

The Golden Trio glared at the redhead Sixth Year at the same time. The three of them appalled that Ginny would think Hermione was actually enjoying her time with the Slytherin ferret. "It's a bloody nightmare," Hermione hissed, ignoring Ginny's comment. "I've already had Blaise Zabini try and claim our living room and strut around the place like it was the Slytherin Common Room. He even stormed into the bathroom as soon as I made it out of the tub."

"So the snakes have began to descend." Ginny laughed again, taking Harry's plate from him and spooning his cereal. "I'll expect Goyle to roam your kitchen by tomorrow."

"If he comes back, I'm sending him to your chamber for mocking me, Ginny. This is serious." Hermione frowned disapprovingly at the redhead.

"How was your night, mate?" Harry asked Ron before Ginny and Hermione could get into an argument over the Slytherins. Merlin knew they would have a lifetime to row about that subject. "Parkinson made you sleep on the floor too?"

"No," Ron said, chewing his eggs. "She agreed to let me sleep on the bed on as long as I don't snore at night and stay on my side."

Interested in the conversation suddenly—since it had been a while that she'd heard Ron speak without snapping for something or looking furious—Hermione asked, "so, I take it you two are getting along? She seems to be behaving herself this year."

Ron shrugged his shoulders, more interested in his breakfast than breaking down whatever it was that was going on with Parkinson and her happy mood. "Dunno really," he said anyway, "we don't really talk. I reckon that's a good sign. We're not both trying to kill one another."

_BAM!_

"Dean." Ginny frowned at her ex-boyfriend as he slammed his text books on the tabletop; making her cereal bowl jump up and splatter milk across. "What's your problem?"

"Luna," Dean Thomas said acidly, fisting his dark palms.

"I thought you were in paradise with her?" Ginny raised her eyebrow. "What happened?"

Dropping his furious scowl and replacing it with sad eyes, miserable looking ones, Dean slumped himself down on a place next to Hermione. "I intercepted that bloody owl in the morning," he began, "and I knew that I wanted to ask Luna right away. Do it properly and all that. So, of course, my idiotic self got down on one knee and asked her to be my wife...And she said no."

Choking on her own share of toast, Hermione tried to cover her incredulous gasp with a few coughs. "...She said no?"

That was the oddest thing that Luna Lovegood could've done, and Hermione knew that that was stretching it. The girl was known for her strangeness, but if there was one thing that made Luna normal, it was her love for Dean. It was no secret or mystery to the world that they were meant to be together—they just fit. No one really noticed it before, since neither were friends, but things changed between them due to the war.

It was love.

Hermione could see it in the way Dean's entire being would light up when Luna entered a room, when she spoke, when she blinked her whimsical blue eyes at him. His smile was the grandest thing when she laughed, and it was like he was addicted to it. Luna, for that matter, would decrease her oddness when she was around Dean; her entire focus on him; sounding out the rest of the world when he talked.

They only had eyes for one another, and that was truer than true.

Clearing her throat, still looking baffled, Hermione added, "are you sure?"

Dean frowned at his fellow Gryffindor, clearly not amused. "I'm sure, Hermione, I was there."

"What happened after?" Harry asked, equally bewildered.

"She ran off," Dean replied depressingly. "She just stormed out of the room without a word."

Ron breathed in through his teeth, clucking his tongue and shaking his head. "I'm sorry, mate." And for the first time in a long time, Ronald Weasley looked sympathetic and like a true friend. "She'll be back. She can't avoid you forever. I'm sure Luna has a good explanation for it all."

Dean looked at Ron apprehensively. "Erm, yeah. Thanks, mate."

"Well, "Ginny coughed, feeling the need to get everyone's attention of Luna's rejection. "Harry and I've chosen a date for the wedding."

"You have?" Hermione asked.

"…Congratulations," Dean breathed.

Ron just rose a brow, looking curious.

"Yes. We chose the date in bed last night, before that damn owl was sent." Ginny smiled brightly. "We decided to do it on New Year's." She intertwined her fingers with Harry's.

"Wait. Wait, wait." Ron waved his left palm out to his younger sister, something crossing his face. "I just remembered something here. If there's one bed per chamber, and Harry was in that bed and you were in that bed too—what the bloody hell was going on in said bed?" He glowered at the future Potter couple.

"Erm...Well..." Harry cleared his throat, turning a slight red.

"Ugh!" Hermione gasped loudly, an aghast expression on her face as she recognized that look on Harry's face. She knew that blush way too well, and so did Ron. And even if they didn't, Ginny's widened eyes revealed it all. "Harry! Ginny! Is that even allowed?"

"Kingsley never said it wasn't permitted!" Ginny interjected, turning as red as her hair.

"That's my sister!" Ron hissed at Harry. "You…You - You _groped_ my sister!"

"I wouldn't say grope, exactly, mate," Harry muttered awkwardly.

Looking embarrassed and ashamed by the second, Ginny flashed a murderous gaze at her brother. "Ronald, sit! You're making a scene!"

"Explain yourself, Harry!" Ron snapped, ignoring his sister.

"Think about it this way, mate," Harry gripped his wand with his right hand, eyeing Ron's twitching fingers ready to whip out his, "if anything goes unexpectedly, then I'm extending the Potter family-line."

And in the next second, as Harry jumped out of his seat and sprinted towards the doors of the Great Hall, Ron bellowed, "Come back here, git!"

"Ron!" Ginny shouted after her brother. "Ron, don't!"

"Relax, Gin." Hermione chortled loudly with an amused Dean beside her. "Ron has to know that everyone reproduces."

Ginny sighed, shaking her fiery hair. "Harry makes a point, though. He _is_ the last Potter. I was just trying to assist." The redhead notice Hermione's extremely amused expression and the redness of her cheeks from all the laughter. "I don't know what you're on about, Hermione." Ginny frowned. "You'll be popping out little Malfoy heirs in no time."

Hermione fell into an abrupt silence.

Dean laughed even harder, slamming his fist on the table with every chuckled.

"Hell," Hermione felt sick, "I never thought of that."**  
**


	8. The Microwave

**Chapter Eight**

And again, as it was accustomed now as they marched into their classroom to learn about rubbish that they should not be learning about, they were greeted by a happy voice.

"Welcome, class, welcome." As the Sixth and Seventh Years marched into their Family Consumer class for the day, miserable-looking as ever, a big-bellied professor with an odd top hat and over-the-top excitement smiled at them all. "Take your seat with your respective others," he encouraged, motioning them to the tables all around.

"Professor Slughorn, " Lavender raised her hand as she took a seat on an open table, "where's Professor Sprout? I thought she'd be teaching the classes from now on?"

"Oh, she will, Miss Brown," the Potions Master nodded at her, his small eyes gleaming, "but I requested to teach this lesson today. Seeing as I've been around for many years and have a particular experience in this matter."

"...I see," Lavender said, her eyes growing angry as Seamus dropped himself to the seat next to her; groaning about her always having to choose and not taking his choices in consideration. "If you don't like it, Finnegan, I can always kill you," she snarled, hushing him up with her stare.

BAM!

"Since you're alive, Harry—" Hermione Granger kept her eyes focused on the book in front of her, not bothering to look up at the person who'd just slammed a copy of Seventh Year Transfiguration on her desk and was panting heavily. "I'm guessing you managed to convince Ron that you're not, what's the word, groping his sister?"

"_No_," Harry breathed, quickly taking a seat next to her. Inhaling and exhaling deeply as if he'd just ran a mile or was back in those ridiculous tasks of the Triwizard Tournament. "I managed to escape him because a couple of Fourth Years thought Ginny and I made a lovely couple, and that we had the right to fondle one another if we wanted."

Shooting her brows up in surprise, a little uncomfortable by her friend's straightforwardness, Hermione cleared her throat. "So, the fans saved the day, did they?"

Harry scoffed. "Not bloody likely. They made it a lot worse." Still not looking away from the intriguing page of her book, Hermione ignored the loud thump Harry's forehead had made when he collided it with the desktop. "Cho Chang's sister happened to be in one of the packs and ratted me out in a heartbeat. She said something about getting what I deserved for leaving her sister for Ginny." Snorting now, Harry looked up at his friend with grand amusement. "Oh, if only she knew that I left Cho for you."

Knowing the direct meaning to that, of what had happened their Fifth Year, Hermione laughed along with her friend. "Honestly, Harry."

BAM—there was another book slammed onto the desk. "Does the Weasley girl know you're trying to steal my fiancée? Because if you really wanted the little Bookworm, I'd be happy to trade."

To the sound of that irritated, venom-filled voice, Hermione chose to close her book and direct her attention to the person across from her; her eyes piercing straight through gray ones that held a twinge of anger. "Hello, darling. Had a fantastic day so far?" She batted her eyelashes in clear mock as the blonde's best friend approached his side.

"I like her." Blaise Zabini pointed a finger at the Gryffindor witch; laughing at Draco's frowning face. "She's funny."

"Oh, yes, very witty," Malfoy huffed as Blaise dropped himself to the nearby desk. "Out of my seat, Potter," he growled at the Boy Who Lived, motioning him out of his space next to Hermione with snapping fingertips.

Rolling her eyes at her fiancée and his most-likely-to-be best man, Hermione ignored them as she turned her attention back to the boy she loved dearly. "I still don't know what's so awful about this situation, Harry. I mean, sure, it's disgusting to know, but it's natural."

Deciding to avoid a fight with Malfoy, Harry moved to the front of desk; his hands resting on the surface across his best friend. "Of course it is, but that doesn't mean he won't be sending an owl to her other brothers." He was pale, seriously stricken by this with grave embarrassment. "You know what _that_ means? The entire Weasley clan will be hunting me down, 'Mione."

"Rubbish," Hermione snorted, patting Harry's hands soothingly. She was, through her friendly gesture, aware of the gaze boring directly to her side that came from the Slytherin beside her. "If anything, the boys will just take the mickey out of you two. Besides, Ron's a foul, hypocritical git. When he was snogging Lavender all around the castle, he didn't stop assaulting her when her brothers were in Hogwarts too."

Harry rose an eyebrow. "I didn't know that."

Hermione nodded, smiling at him calmly. "They were two big Seventh Years. They gave Grawp a run for his galleons."

Remembering Hagrid's giant, half-brother, Harry chuckled as an ease took over him for a moment. "Thanks, 'Mione. You're amazing at this," and he leaned forward to place a kiss on her forehead.

Expanding her smile a little more to her surrogate-brother, Hermione returned back to her book when Harry proceeded to his table as soon as Ginny had marched into the classroom. And right as she'd found the page she had last read, she could still feel those silver eyes on her.

One minute, two minutes, and right before the third minute of an awkward tension on her shoulders, Ron appeared to her left side in rescue. "Hermione," he said to her, taking a seat on the table there as Pansy strolled into the room scouting for him; a smirk on her face as she noticed Sprout gone.

"Still upset, Ronald?" The brunette questioned, ignoring the blank greeting he'd given her.

Grunting in response, Ron turned to his fiancée as he chose not to speak further to his best friend.

"Weasley," Pansy greeted in an emotionless tone. "How was your day so far?"

Ron shrugged and said, "aggravating. And yours?"

"That's lovely," Pansy said offhandedly, stuffing her Potions book into her bag; not meeting the redhead's eyes as both seemed to be in a silent agreement not to bother showing any consideration for one another. "Mine has been boring so far, but I'm hoping for some amusement."

"Interesting," Ron mumbled, turning to play with the sleeve of his robe and sounding out the Slytherin witch too.

Knitting her brows at Ron and Parkinson, Hermione felt the immediate shock trying to take over her facial expression at the interaction those two had. Turning to the side, looking from the corner of her eye and noticing Malfoy glare at the desktop, Hermione wondered why she couldn't have a simple, civil conversation with Malfoy? Surely they were in the same boat as Ron and Parkinson—they could do it too, right?

And as she looked longer at Draco, Hermione shoved the Slytherin to his right side as she noticed he'd been sitting on the edge of her robe. "Move, ferret." (Oh, right. She was the child in all of this.)

"Alright, silence now." Professor Slughorn cleared his throat loudly, shutting the conversations down as he attempted to begin with the lesson. "Before we begin, the Headmistress would like me to remind you that you've two weeks to choose a date for your, erm…wedding," he said uncomfortably at the class, well are of the lost causes among them.

"Get away!" Lavender snapped at Seamus, slapping his hand away from her book as she focused her attention back at the front with a frown.

Shaking his head, Slughorn continued. "You must inform your Family Consumer professor, which in this case is Professor Sprout, immediately. And if the situation presents itself in which you've not established a date, the Ministry will assign you a date." A few scoffs sounded around the room. "Now, now, children, the Ministry's trying to give you as much freewill as possible—"

"Free will?" Cho Chang scowled at the professor, already seated next to her soon-to-be husband. "How is it exactly freewill when the Ministry's forcing us into marrying ruddy gits? Who are they to send us off into the house of perverted snakes?"

And as she pointed an accusing finger at Blaise, he started defending himself as a few Ravenclaw boys sending death-glares at him. "It was a joke! It's not my fault her sense of humor's dried up as a prune."

Coughing at the infuriated look on Cho's face, Slughorn tried to press on once more. "Erm..Today's lesson is quite simple, since you've already been assigned your respective headquarters. I'm here today to demonstrate the art of living in a muggle community."

Smirks and warning stares were sent around to the Slytherins in the room as murmurs broke out around the classroom as the signal word 'Muggle' went off. Every Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff dared them to say something nasty in return to the professor's comment.

"...Not bloody likely," Malfoy hissed in a very low voice. Looking around at the staring faces, mouthing the words to himself.

Hermione frowned deeply, hearing him perfectly.

"Many times a newlywed married magical-couple decides it's best to begin their lives and family in a peaceful muggle town. And many times, the magical-couple has a rough time adjusting to the contraptions used to survive by the normal Muggle." The professor smiled, walking over to a section in front of the classroom where a large table sat with a cloaked thrown over it.

"What is this, Muggle Studies?" Zabini huffed, crossing his arms across his chest and nodding Malfoy towards the table.

"Now, it's my job today to show you how each of these contraptions work. This will give you a small idea of what to wait for." Slughorn pulled the cloak away from the table, showing the metallic objects to the class that sat on it. "Any volunteers for a bit of show-and-tell?"

Narrowing his eyes at the professor and his contraptions, Malfoy snorted. "No one said living like a muggle was an option."

Gritting her teeth by Malfoy and Zabini's comments, Hermione shot her hand in the air. "Professor," she called, "Malfoy would like to volunteer." And she picked up her fiancée's arm, raising it high. "He wants a bit of experience before _we_ get our home in a Muggle village."

"Excellent!" Slughorn grinned largely. "Mister Malfoy, if you please. We'll try the microwave first!"

"The what?" Pansy and Ron asked at the same time as Blaise laughed with hysterics.

Draco turned to Hermione, glaring with all the hatred he could muster up as the latter leered triumphantly.

"I'm a Muggle-born, Malfoy," she whispered as his paleness turned red, "it _is _bloody likely."

**X**

"No, Ronald," Hermione huffed, rubbing her temples for the eighth time as her frustration multiplied. "You have to pronounce the words correctly in order for the spell to function."

"I _am_ pronouncing it right." Ron glared, leaning back on one of the library chairs. "Everte Statum," he said again.

Hermione sighed, stacking her books. "Ron, the way you're saying is correct—when you _speak_ it," she emphasized her words. "Now, try saying it exactly that way when you're waving your wand about."

"I am saying it that way!"

Hermione sent him a scowl. "Fine, Ronald," she breathed, gathering her things, "make sure to say it exactly that way in the mirror. Get some good goes at yourself, you stubborn idiot."

"Why are _you _angry?" He asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I'm not angry, Ron." Hermione stood from the library desk they were studying in for the last couple of hours, obviously lying. "I'm just tired, so I guess this is it for our tutoring lesson." She threw her bag over her shoulder, adjusting the strap quickly. "And next time, make sure Flitwick assigns you a tutor you can actually work with so I don't waste my time."

"I don't even understand what's the point of giving me a tutor," Ron interjected, watching as Hermione gathered the stuff that didn't fit in her schoolbag; ignoring her retort. "I'm a bloody war hero, why in Merlin's saggy pants do I need help in saying one certain spell?"

Hermione exhaled, shaking her brown curls at him with an incredulous glaze passing through her eyes. "So that's the reason behind all of your foul attitude lately?" She frowned. "Because you think you're some kind of hero?"

"I don't think I'm a hero, Hermione," Ron said indifferently, "I know I'm one." He leaned forward and hissed it out lowly, his bright eyes darkening as he did. "I didn't spend an entire year on the run so I could return to Hogwarts and be treated like a bloody thickhead.

"I didn't help fight to bring the Dark Lord down and save this castle so some bloody professor could tell me that I need to participate and pronounce my spells correctly. I've done every bloody spell imaginable, he has no right to correct me." He pushed a book off the round table, making it fall a foot away as his anger rose and his fists clenched.

Hermione jumped up at the sudden noise, the book echoing louder as the vacant library sat silently before them. And with that frown, she turned back to the redhead. "I was on the run as well, Ron," she said in a tiny voice, too afraid to speak up and lash out all her anger at him. "It might've escaped your notice, but I was right beside you and Harry fighting with all that I had."

"Really, Hermione?" Ron stood from the chair, sliding it back and letting it fall. "Because it seems to me that the difference you're missing between you and I is that _I_ lost a lot during the war," he snarled at her, growing red in the face.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, trying not to let the tears pile in her eyes and leak out. "Do you think you're the only one who suffered?" She inhaled deeply, counting a few seconds before speaking. Her eyes burning. "What about Harry? What about little Teddy? What about every student who lost family and friends?" She took a step back from him, feeling ill as she saw the growing venom in his eyes. She was aware that her best friend was standing before her, but she didn't know who he was any more. "What about George?" She mouthed, spinning on her heels and marching forward.

Lavender Brown's words echoed around the walls of her head. She said let him be, give him time and he would adjust to life after the war and every after-effect that came with it. So Ron was still in mourning, she understood that, but letting the ego of being a 'hero' get to his head, and confuse his mourning with smugness was something she wasn't about to tolerate. She had enough of Ron Weasley's fits for a lifetime.

"—Oi, Granger, watch it!" Hermione collided with a strong shoulder, sending her tumbling back a few steps.

"_Malfoy_," she hissed, rubbing her shoulder. "What are you—what's that?" She questioned, noticing the metallic box in his hands; her face filled with suspicion.

"It's a microwave, Granger." Pansy Parkinson, who accompanied Malfoy, rolled her eyes. "And you're suppose to be the Muggle-Born here. Pathetic."

Hermione frowned. "Whatever." She shook her head and wiped her fallen tears before Pansy could spot them. "Where are you two taking it, anyway? Hogwarts doesn't run with electricity."

"Professor Slughorn—"

"Here, Pans," Malfoy interrupted Pansy, shoving the metallic box into her meaty hands. He stepped in front of her, giving her his back as his gray eyes were quick to dig their way towards Hermione. "Are you alright?" He murmured, noticing the redness of her eyes.

Hermione chewed on the inside of her cheek, a little taken aback as she remained silent.

Okay, so, what was she supposed to do here, confide in him? Tell him that her best friend was acting like a mental ghoul? Confess to him that she didn't know who Ron was anymore? That it pained her to feel like Ron was slipping away from her and Harry?

Did she look stupid?

"Nothing," she replied quickly.

Of course not, she's the Brightest Witch of the Age. Someone please give her more credit than that. Who in their right mind trust their fiancées,anyway? Certainly not her.

"Are you sure?" Malfoy pressed.

"….Do you honestly care, Malfoy?" Hermione adjusted the strap of her schoolbag, watching as his eyes looked to the floor and back at her face. The same expressionless gaze shined in his eyes; the blank look on his face staring back at her. "That's what I assumed," Hermione added after his silence.

Hearing footsteps approaching the corridor she stood with the two Slytherins, the brunette Gryffindor sighed loudly as the person she'd been escaping called her. "You forgot your Charms book." Ron stretched forward a thick book, his eyes shifting back and forth to Malfoy and Hermione and their proximity.

"Thanks," Hermione grunted as she yanked the book from his hand.

"Dra - Draco!" From behind the Slytherin Prince, Pansy groaned painfully. "I'm falling! Help!"

Turning back to his friend, Malfoy took the metal box with an irritated look. "I've seen you carry heavier bags of clothes than this, Pans."

Pansy scowled as she rubbed her palms soothingly. "Not true."

And as the Slytherin witch threw him a calculating stare, Ron frowned at her, but ignored her as he turned to his best friend. "We better go, Hermione," he told her, grabbing her elbow.

"No." Hermione shoved his grip away. "I'm going to my chamber, I need some sleep," she said, not turning to face the redhead. "You should take your fiancée and do the same, Ronald. I think we had enough for today."

Ron kept his frowned, annoyed now. "…._Hermione_."

"Make sure you cover him well enough at night, Parkinson," Hermione said rapidly before Ron could get out the rest of his sentence. "If he doesn't feel like he's getting top attention in his room, he might think Hogwarts isn't worth it anymore. Heroes like him need excellent service."

"I didn't mean it like that!" Ron hissed, turning Hermione around from the elbow and disregarding her shove a moment ago. "You know what I meant, Hermione. You know that what I said—"

"Oh, please, Ronald, you act like I don't know you." Hermione tried moving his grip. "You've always wanted the attention, and trust me you're getting it. And not for the merits you wish to be recognized as. "

"Weasley, it might be best if you let the Bookworm go." Draco's eyes lowered to the rough grasp the redhead had on the female Gryffindor and he felt a twinge of something, like a protectiveness seeping into him. "If there's trouble in paradise—"

"Oi!" Pansy scowled.

"—I suggest you work it out by not speaking to each other, just like all the other couples in their rough times. Now, if you will, let the witch go."

"Stay out of it, Malfoy," Ron growled.

Giving the Slytherin boy a look that told him to stay put for a moment, Hermione looked at the redhead Gryffindor with a sad stare. "Just let go, Ron," he tone was almost pleading, "I'm honestly exhausted to care for any explanations at the moment. I'll give you all night to come up with the perfect excuse of your bloody attitude these past few days and then we can talk."

"You don't think I've the right to be mad?" Ron asked, ignoring her request again. "To be angry and conflicted?" He gripped harder, flashes of the war playing in the back of his head. "I lost my brother, Hermione."

"So did Ginny," Hermione tried to push as well, wincing from his hold, "but she's pulling herself together. Trying her hardest to live in the peace she and Fred also fought for. She's not living in misery and letting the bad interfere with her life."

"It's not the same! What I saw—"

"_I saw it too!_" Hermione pushed again, irritated now. "And I don't go around treating you like you're not worth it!" She shoved a hand on his chest and tried pushing him backward. "Let - go!"

Ron's eyes burned behind his sockets, his face ached with anger at the disgust in Hermione's face. And before he couldn't contain it, he let go. "_EVERTE STATAM_!" He bellowed, shoving Hermione aside and casting out a red light from the tip of his wand.

And as something exploded, Ron turned on his heels and left.

"_Ah_…" Pansy breathed, gazing at the giant parts of metal on the floor now. "He blew up the microwave." She bent down and grabbed the part of the box which held the digital numbers. "Professor Slughorn gave me this." She turned the part around and expected the clear damage.

For a moment, for a moment as they ignored the dark-haired girl, Draco and Hermione stared at one another in the eye as they found themselves embraced into each other. His arms were wrapped around her, pulling her in his chest in a protecting way as soon as Weasley had tossed her.

Tearing themselves away quickly, Draco dusted himself from the smoke that had appeared. "His loss, Pans," he finally spoke, "it was for your chamber, anyway."

Hermione groaned, shaking her head at the two Slytherins. "At least he learned how to say the spell right." She gave Pansy a weak smile. "He'll replace it, you know."

Pansy glared, throwing the metallic part back on the marbled floor. "I wanted that one!" She stomped her foot.

"Pans," Draco sighed, "you didn't even know what it was for."

"I don't care." Pansy crossed her arms. "That bloody Weasel better replace it! I was going to store some items in there!"

"It's meant to be used as a cooking tool, Parkinson," Hermione informed.

"Brilliant, Granger," Pansy huffed as she started walking in the direction Ron left in. "After he replaces it, I'll shove his head in there!"

And as the girl headed away, almost in synch, Malfoy and Hermione turned to the direction of their chamber; leaving the scraps of metal behind. "Do you think she'll really hurt him?"

"Maybe." Malfoy shrugged, kicking a bit of metal. "She'll probably find a shiny new object by tomorrow and forget all about this."

"I'm sure I can talk Professor Slughorn into giving me his toaster." Hermione smiled for the first time tonight, forgetting about her row with Ron. "It's got a shiny side. She can stare at herself all night and pop toast."

Draco chuckled. "Sounds like Pansy found a new talent."

Hermione giggled lightly, letting her mind wander off. She laced her arm through Malfoy's, both of them laughing loudly that they didn't notice the sudden contact of their flesh or the sudden glow both of them radiated for a millisecond.


	9. The Strange and the Fragile

**Chapter Nine**

"—Weasley!" Kicking the door of her chamber open, Pansy Parkinson stormed past her small living room, fuming as she headed towards her room. Her anger was leaving a trail behind her, along with the echoing sounds of her stomps on the marbled floor.

She was going to tear his head off and make a rug out of his red hair as soon as she got a hold of the redheaded Weasel. She was going to send his decapitated body to his mummy wrapped in a bow. How dare he destroy something that was hers, for starters, and _then_ aim a curse towards her direction? (Her life was precious, damnit!)

"Weasley!" But just as she felt a sense of joy of being a second away from murdering him, she stopped abruptly after she kicked the door of her bedroom open. Her coal eyes found and took in the image of a redhead slumped on the floor, his knees brought to his chest and his hair covering his freckly face as he leaned against the bordered edge of the bed.

She remained solid for a second, waiting for him to look up or something, but nothing came. "…Weasley?"

"Get out," Ron hissed in a low, raspy voice. Not picking up his head from his knees.

Pansy's nostrils flared up in anger, her rage boiling in her blood once more; remembering why she'd chased after the Gryffindor in the first place. "Look, Weasley, you thickheaded git. I don't—" She stopped again as Ron let out a shaky breath.

The redhead hugged his knees tighter, his hands overlapping on his kneecaps were shaking.

Catching the changes to his appearance, Pansy couldn't help herself and she dropped the accusing finger she'd lifted up in her prior anger. "...Oh, for the great Salazar," she huffed, slamming the door behind her as something ordered her to take a few steps closer to the Gryffindor.

Ron's hands were still shaking, his body rigid.

"….Are you alright?" She asked hesitantly.

But not seeing that the dark-haired witch was being possessed by a demon that was attempting to be nice to him, Ron's angry voice came out threateningly again. "_Out_, Parkinson. Get out."

The Slytherin girl counted to three, inhaling deeply as she took a couple of steps towards the redhead with determination. "Weasley, are you okay?" She pressed once more.

Ron grunted, squeezing his palms tightly and exposing the light blue veins contrasting on his pale skin. "…No," he breathed, keeping his head plastered on his kneecaps. "I'm not okay."

Pansy froze, she was completely taken aback. She had expected him to continue fighting with her, to hiss at her until she lost her patience, hexed him, and then they continued on like always. She didn't think he'd speak, that his voice would come out that low, and that that demon possessing her wanted to continue to help.

"Do you...erm...Do you want to—you don't have to of course, but maybe it'll..." She was a complete idiotic bint right about now. She just continued to stumble with her words, like she'd never spoken to anyone before.

And, honestly, if it wasn't because Pansy was a coldhearted bitch—something that she was extremely proud of—she would've known exactly what to say. But it was clear as day that she wasn't the type of girl that knew how emotions and being sentimental worked. She'd never been the friend, _if_ you can call her that, to sooth another person when they most needed it. Pansy was always the one who stepped on you when you were down on the floor, and who made sure your day was extra awful when it was already a drag. She was a rough-skinned Pureblood: the legacy of her mother and father and she was not equipped with emotions.

"…Hermione's right," Ron said without thinking, playing the brunette's words over and over in his head. Letting her expression sink back into his memory and prove to him how much of a disappointment he actually was these days. "I have become an egotistical prat."

"I wouldn't call you egotistical," Pansy said slowly, sinking to her knees in front of him. "A prat, yes, but not egotistical. Well, not more than usual, that is."

"….I cant help it, to be a prat," Ron mumbled to the Slytherin. "I'm just so angry all the time now. Nothing seems...right...I feel like I lost myself after the war. I feel like after everything that happened...everything I saw and experienced...It _broke_ me..." Underneath his hair, a curtain between him and Pansy, Ron bit his lip. Trying to keep some of the pride he had left.

Pansy extended her arm out, her palm a centimeter away from the Gryffindor's red hair. "…You do have a right to be bottled up with rage," she said in a tone of voice that was strange for her. It was gentle and free of sarcasm. "As much as I hate to admit it, things for your side during the war were far worse than anything someone from mine ever experienced. We were recruited and treated like royalty. Never harmed if it wasn't necessary." She dropped her arm, slapping it down to the marbled floor as she couldn't bring herself to touch him.

"I lost my brother," Ron muttered hesitantly. He wasn't sure why he was discussing any of this with the Slytherin, but he was coming to the conclusion that no one was willing to hear him anymore. Not even Hermione. He'd sunk low enough that he let the worse of him creep out of the hole. He didn't have patience enough to handle his best friends, nor to be able to handle the look Harry would give him if he told him that he was tired of everything. That he no longer saw the light and was so close to quitting. "...I watched him die."

The Slytherin heard the Gryffindor let out another shaky breath, and this time she heard a clear sob mix with oxygen—the Weasel King was in pain.

She lifted her arm forward again, and this time she let her fingers dance into his red hair. She let the tips of her fingers roam inside of every strand, ruffling it soothingly. And with her free arm, she pulled herself forward and clutch onto his shoulder; embracing him. It was a close contact a Parkinson would never allow themselves to make, but for that split second, and that moment of his pain, she forgot who she was. She forgot that she was that coldhearted bitch she adored.

"I understand where you're coming from," she finally spoke. "To feel like everything you knew and believed in...All of it just ended up hurting you. You gave your all for something that you knew was for the best, and in the end... it took what you loved the most."

Ron lifted his head up, his red hair flying back and exposing his bright and miserable eyes to the Slytherin witch. "Everything I thought that was worth it...wasn't anymore. I saw my brother break, die so easily along with many others...They were all supposed to be the strong ones, they were supposed to make it out, but they didn't. They all broke without any effort, fell to the ground and died.…

"All I could think about after that was of my own pain...My own selfish thoughts emerged and took over." Ron looked deeply at Pansy, allowing his eyes to penetrate into hers. Every hateful feeling he ever felt towards her was momentarily erased. He didn't see the girl who was as evil as they came, he just saw a girl that was holding him when she didn't have to.

"Everyone goes through their own pain," Pansy murmured, her left arm still wrapped around his neck and her right hand in his hair, "but it's all about getting up and moving forward from it." She met his stare, not cowering away from the redness surrounding his pupils. "I lost my Grandparents in the war. Believe it or not, our loved ones were murdered too. Our motives might have been twisted and wrong, but we suffered too...I lost the two people that meant the world to me...That were more parents than my own. And to think that I'll never see them again, that they'll never hug me...It's _so_ hard." Her dark eyes were burning now. She felt an odd pressure form in the back of her throat, a lump forming—something was happening to her.

"It gets better?" Ron asked, letting his arms slither their way towards her waist and wrapping themselves there as they pulled the Slytherin closer.

Pansy nodded, pressing her lips into a tight line. "I think about it this way—" She pushed his knees away from his chest and then sat herself on his lap. She let him cradle her, her face resting on the crook of his neck. It was an act so despicable and loathing that she'd to ignore the voices in her head that told her she was breaking the barriers she'd created long ago. "We're already deep in the hole, that there's no way to crawl but up."

"Sounds exhausting. I've never been much for exercise," Ron stated as he squeezed her by the waist. It was the first humanly contact he had in months and it felt warm, he could not deny that.

Pansy smiled softly, no trace of the smirking Slytherin present. "Don't worry. Between you and I, the abyss isn't so profound." She paused for a second, taking a breath of courage to say what was coming next. "….I'll be here for you, Ron."

The Gryffindor's eyes widened momentarily. "Ron?"

"Weasley," Pansy cleared her throat, "if you prefer." She shrugged in his arms.

"No...Ron's okay," the redhead said softly, smiling lightly as well. "Just as long as you don't call me WonWon."

Pansy inhaled through her teeth. "Oh, I can't promise anything there."

And as he scowled playfully at her, his blue eyes suddenly twinkling, they laughed together. They continued to sit on the floor of their bedroom, their bodies shaking from the amusing, strange, feeling in the air that had suddenly changed. They held onto each other with a feeling that wasn't hate, but was something much more than sympathy.

** X**

"Come, come—" Blaise Zabini opened the door of the chamber, allowing a dark-haired witch to enter first. "Make yourself at home, please."

Hermione, who was seated on a nearby armchair, snapped her book closed at the sudden intrusion to her living headquarters. "Oh, by all means, Zabini, drag the Ravenclaw in here and take over my chamber."

Blaise clucked his tongue at the brunette, his eyes in a scolding, disapproving manner. "That's terrible hospitality from your part, Granger. If you were to come by our chamber, we would greet you with warmth and a hot cup of tea."

Hermione glared, fixing her pajama pants as they wrinkled by the knee before she stood up. "If I were to go to your chamber, Zabini, I assure you it would be only to murder you."

Zabini's eyes grew wide, he's teasing gone. "You're joking, right?" He waited for the Gryffindor to laugh and say that she was just trying to scare him, but that moment never came. "Malfoy!" He shouted, hiding behind his fiancée. "Your woman's threatening me—_again_!"

Cho rolled her eyes and swatted the Slytherin away from her. "I'm sorry, Hermione," she said sincerely as she took off her house-colored scarf. "Zabini has been trying to make up for his past errors since our last Family lesson, and he said he had a 'double date' planned with you and Malfoy."

Hermione coughed. "A date?" She asked, her eyes turning away from Cho and towards the Slytherin. "Zabini, what in Merlin's name—"

But before Hermione could grill the dark-skinned Slytherin, Draco exited the chamber's bedroom. "Ah, Blaise," he interrupted, his toned arms carrying a box as he smirked, "I thought I heard your girlish screams." He settled the box on the center-table of his living room, smirk still powerful. "Did Chang beat you again?"

Not finding anything amusing at the moment—especially not the smug look of authority on Cho's face by Malfoy's comment—Blaise glared thoroughly. "You've got to do something about her!" He pointed an angered finger at the Gryffindor from behind the couch. "She's starting to get a lot more violent! You're rubbing off badly on her, Draco."

"I honestly doubt that three days of living with Malfoy can cause me to turn bitter and sarcastic," Hermione snorted, tucking her wand into the waistband of her pajama-pants. "Anyway, what's this about a double date, Malfoy? He better have meant you and Goyle because I don't have time for your games."

"No, I meant _you_, Granger. It's a last minute thing, of course, but I thought you'd appreciate it," Malfoy responded, trying his hardest not to snap and insult the girl. So, instead, he moved over the to the table and began to ruffle through its contents. "I owled Blaise after we entered the chamber and you went to do your womanly needs, and asked if they'd like to join us tonight."

Noticing Hermione's frown deepen, Cho decided to step in. (She might not really like her, but she knew that getting paired with Malfoy in all this rubbish was torture enough for Hermione.) "It's past curfew, you know? Where can you two possibly take us for this...date? Maybe we should forget about this."

"No one said we were going out, darling." Blaise dropped himself on he open seat next to his future wife as he sent Hermione an I-Come-In-Peace smile; throwing an arm around Cho's shoulder. "We decided, since Granger so cleverly had Draco volunteer in class, that we would have a Muggle night."

"And shoot me with a gun?" Tossing her book carelessly on the floor, Hermione felt a deep anger rising inside of her that disappeared the momentary feel of comfort and peace she'd felt when she curled up on the armchair to read; even making her forget that upon entering their chamber, Malfoy opened the door for her, laughed a joke shared among them.

As much as she was trying to be civil, to be friends, Hermione could _not _let her defenses fall like that. She _knew_ Malfoy, and he wasn't going to stop being a slimy ferret from one day to another.

Taking something from the box, hiding it behind his back, Draco turned to the Gryffindor. "We're not planning your murder, Granger," his voice was wary, "I just thought it would be something you'd enjoy. For _us_ to enjoy. It's just so we can test waters on how to be an engaged couple."

Feeling a mixed and unclear rush of something, Hermione narrowed her eyes at the Slytherin. She still was very suspicious of him, but she could also see the tiniest flicker of something sincere in his silver eyes. So, with her chin raised high, an attempted look of acceptance, she said, "Alright, Malfoy. Let's see what you had in mind."

Keeping his own share of anger at bay, Malfoy revealed what he hid behind him.

"Is that a—" Shoving him aside, Hermione peered into the box he'd brought out and laid on the table. "Movies, Malfoy?" Her disbelief was very apparent as she could see the video cassettes stacked together. "How'd you get these?"

"They were owled to me," Draco explained, smiling lightly as he noticed her surprise turn into curiosity. "I sent Arthur Weasley a letter that asked if he could please lend me a few of his muggle-films."

Hermione couldn't help but smile. "How did you know he'd have them?" But the real question playing in her head was: Why would he owl Mister Weasley? A man that represented everything he hated in the Wizarding World.

"He's the only wizard I knew that would have any muggle devices that'd fit the television-set Professor Slughorn gave me." Draco pointed a slender finger at the front of the living room, to the furthest wall.

Hermione's jaw dropped. How the hell did she miss a television-set laying in her living room? "He _gave_ you the television-set from our lesson?"

"Turns out Slughorn thought Draco had great potential in disguising himself as a muggle man," Zabini laughed mockingly, nudging Cho towards the set like it was the most ridiculous thing ever.

Taking an unconscious step towards the blonde Slytherin, Hermione began to whisper in the smallest voice so the other couple wouldn't overhear. "Why'd you do this, Malfoy?"

Turning a slight red, Malfoy tried to adjust himself as he replied in the same low tone she'd used. "I actually meant when I said I wanted to be friends."

Hermione bit her lip, holding a video cassette in her hand. "I'm sorry if I've been...insufferable," she cleared her throat, suddenly feeling it go dry. "This is difficult, you know. And...I can't say I _want_ to trust you, but I'll try to."

_THUD_.

And from the loud smack that bounced off the marbled floor, Draco turned away from Hermione to raise an eyebrow at his fallen best friend. "What are you doing, Zabini?"

Zabini cleared his throat. "Erm...Well—"

"He was trying to overhear your conversation," Cho said honestly and blankly as she stood from the couch and took the cassette from Hermione's hand.

"Was not." Blaise jumped up. "I was merely searching for dust." He looked at Hermione, pushing Draco away from the Gryffindor. "What kind of wife are you going to be? Look at this mess!" He pointed at his sleeve that was covered in dirty powder.

"So, what are we going to watch in the television?" The Ravenclaw picked up another cassette that read Little Mermaid.

"Let's select randomly." Blaise shoved a hand into the box, mixing the tapes up. "Aha!" He said after a moment, pulling out a movie. "Titanic, it is!"

"Titanic?" Cho and Malfoy questioned together.

Chortling, Hermione walked over to the set as she mumbled, "this should be interesting."

**X**

Dark as night, darker than black, the Malfoy Chamber was at as dimmest. Nothing could be seen from any corner, not even the marbled floor—except, for the tiniest blue light that emerged from the television-set on the furthest wall of the living room.

Blaise Zabini and Cho Chang looked at it from their seats on the couch, eyes wide open and mesmerized at the muggle contraption ahead. Both stuck together closely, a cloak thrown over their legs and a cup of tea sitting beside them.

Hermione sat on Draco's left side on the armchair they transfigured into a decent size couch, seeing as Blaise claimed the only one as his. (The selfish prat.)

Draco had an arm around Hermione's shoulder after an hour into the film. They both sat with more distance between each other than the other couple, but could both feel each others heat radiate off the others body. It was a strange sensation in which Hermione felt a pull to lay her head on his shoulder and snuggle close, to be intimate in a way you would with someone you were comfortable with. But seeing as that would be the highest level of awkward, she handled the sore feeling in her neck.

"—_I love you, Jack_," the woman, Rose, in the movie said a she a laid on piece of wood in the floating water.

The man in the film, holding on to the woman's hand from inside of the water, looked at her quickly. Cold air coming out of his nostrils like thick fog. "_Don't do that. Don't you say your goodbyes," _he managed to mutter through the cold oxygen pumping in his lungs.

"…_I'm so cold_."

"_Listen, Rose_," Jack said, still shivering, "_you're gonna get out of here, you're gonna go on and make lots of babies, and you're gonna watch them grow. You're gonna die an old... an old lady warm in her bed, but not here, not this night. Not like this, do you understand me?_" The man said desperately, staring at the woman with all he had.

"…I_ can't feel my body_," she responded, her pale skin turning blue.

"_Winning that ticket, Rose, was the best thing that ever happened to me... it brought me to you. And I'm thankful for that, Rose. I'm thankful. You must do me this honor, Rose. Promise me you'll survive. That you won't give up, no matter what happens, no matter how hopeless. Promise me now, Rose, and never let go of that promise_."

Hermione slapped a hand over her trembling mouth, the sleep that was closing her eyelids was now replaced by a sudden urge to cry for the smallest moment—this part always got to her.

"…_I promise_." Hermione saw the almost-frozen woman say.

"_Never let go_."

"_I'll never let go. I'll never let go, Jack._ "

A sob broke out in the living room.

"Merlin, she's going to die! Why? Not like that...not like that..."

"Blaise," Cho placed a palm on the Slytherin's shoulder, "it's just a film. It's fiction. This never happened."

"No!" Tears dropped from Zabini's emerald eyes. "Don't you lie to me, Cho! She's going to let go! She's going to let go!" He rocked himself on his seat as his eyes focused on the lifeboats floating away from the freezing bodies in the water.

Forgetting about the film for a moment, Cho turned all her attention on Zabini. "Blaise, listen to me..."

And as Chang began trying to soothe his best friend, Draco leaned closer to Hermione and whispered, "come now, Granger. I see your eyes drooping. Time for bed."

"They aren't drooping, Malfoy," Hermione protested, watching him stand from their transfigured couch. "I'm just simply blinking."

Rolling his eyes, Malfoy reached over and grabbed a hold of her slender arm. "Whatever you say, Granger."

"But—"

"It's better if Blaise finds out how the rest of the film turns out on his own. I expect him to be a grand mess once its over, and Chang should learn how to deal with that already."

"Who knew he was so sensitive?" Hermione let Draco pull her off the couch, a hand on the small of her back, pushing her forward to their room.

"He's Italian." Draco shrugged, tearing the metallic sheets from the mattress and fluffing Hermione's pillow. "They're quite sensitive over everything. You should meet his father, it's quite the show to watch."

The cold midnight air blew all around the chamber, and Draco watched Hermione shiver as she slithered into the bed. "We're never going to get rid of him now, you know."

She stuttered, her teeth clattering. "He'll want the television set now," she pointed out, watching him snake his way inside the sheets as well. "And I'm willing to sacrifice it. I don't want him here."

"Well, he's out of luck, then. Mister Weasley will want his films back as soon as possible." Draco turned to face Hermione, a small space separating them. He could see the cold air blow out of her lips and he couldn't help but compare her to the woman from the film. Remembering how she shivered and grew pale and numb, so fragile and easy to break in that moment.

And really, that's what Granger was, right? She was all words, all logic, but she was still a girl; still fragile. She could be broken, she could be crushed if you stripped her away from her knowledge.

"I can't believe you did this for me," with a quivering lip from the cold, Hermione whispered to Malfoy softly before yawning.

Not replying, Draco watched as her eyelids closed abruptly, sleep washing over her suddenly. Her face went blank as she curled into herself from the cold; a look so peaceful on her face.

As sneakily as he could, Malfoy reached his finger over and moved a curl from her face, staring at the Muggle-Born with profound eyes and gazing at her like something he'd never seen before.

He always saw her as a strong, vital, part of the Golden Trio. She was strong and fierce, she had to be. Her exterior was rough and domineering, and he knew she had a soft side, but he didn't know what it was. He knew, from years of hearing her ramble about pathetic things, that she found importance in the life of every creature and she protected everyone who needed it.

She was a noble person, and that was her weakness. She trusted everyone.

She was gullible to believe anyone, even if she was the Brightest Witch of the Age. Book smarts and instincts couldn't always protect her, he knew this now. She was a soft bubble, and she was constantly letting herself be around sharp objects by her nobility and heart .

"…_Pop_," Draco whispered, hearing a bubble in his head explode dramatically.

It was going to be quite simple crushing her. Poor Gryffindor Princess, she'll never see it coming.


	10. BreakUps and Spiders

**Chapter Ten**

"Top o' the morning!"

"Would you shut up?" Seamus Finnegan's cheerful greeting was cut short by Lavender Brown's growl. She was sitting on the Gryffindor table with a half eaten bowl of cereal in front of her and a look that could send Merlin himself running into the arms of his mother. Her cheeks were bright red and underneath the tabletop her leg tapped rapidly. "This isn't Ireland, you know? " She slapped the spoon into the bowl.

Seamus coughed, raising an eyebrow at Lavender, then looked at the others. "What's with her?" He asked his fellow Gryffindors as he took a seat across from his fiancée and grabbed a plate full of elf-made breakfast.

"Oh, like you care," Lavender hissed, stabbing her cheerios with the end of her spoon.

"Lavender found out this morning," Luna Lovegood began as she handed her Quibbler edition to Hermione, "that after the Family Consumer lesson the other day that Professor Slughorn taught, that she's been suspended from the next two trips to Hogsmeade."

Lavender dropped her head on the table, startling Harry and Ginny. The two love-birds separated at once from the mouth and looking flushed. The ends of Lavender's dirty blonde hair splashed inside of her bowl.

"She's a bit sensitive about it," Ginny commented, pulling herself from Harry's arms for a moment to pull the Gryffindor's hair from the cereal bowl. "A new dress shop is opening in the village and she wanted to be there for the grand opening. But seeing as Slughorn ratted her out and McGonagall has a low patience now..."

"Serves her right, doesn't it?" Seamus snorted, nudging Dean Thomas with his elbow and distracting his friend as he gawked at the dreamy Ravenclaw present at the table. "She's a bloody menace. No wonder Slughorn reported her. He was practically trembling. I wouldn't be surprised if she gave the old bloke a heart attack."

"Oh, Seamus, _no_." Hermione put the Quibbler down and shook her head at her fellow Gryffindor, motioning with her finger for him to stay silent. Sharing a dormitory with the Brown girl for seven years was enough experience for Hermione to know that you don't mess with her when she's angry. It could be the last thing you do before you land petrified in the Hospital Wing.

"Trembling?" Lavender raised her head quickly, scooting her bowl a couple of inches back with a whoosh of her hair. "If I recall, Finnegan, _you_ were the one hiding behind the Professor! What kind of wizard are you? Dropping your wand and making a run for it! Typical thing to do by the bloke that has a brain of the size a troll's!"

All at once from Lavender's loud voice, the Great Hall suddenly went silent. Nothing was heard from any of the other three houses or the staff table but Lavender's gritting teeth and Seamus' frighten heartbeat. "How can I not be scared, you wench? You threw a mini-fridge at me with everything inside!"

"You bloody deserved it and you know it!" Lavender glared, taking the spoon out from the bowl and pointed it threateningly at Seamus. " I cant believe the Sorting Hat placed me with you."

"Lav—" Harry, who had adopted Ron's nickname for his ex-girlfriend in their Sixth Year, pulled on the sleeve of her purple shirt. "…Not in front of the younger students," he whispered, pointing at a few confused faces while the others, those involved in the new law, nodded in agreement.

"Oh, thanks, Harry," Lavender whispered back, patting his arm appreciatively. "I almost ruined it, didn't I?" She gave a small giggle and smiled at the Boy-Who-Lived.

After Harry let her sleeve go, she turned back around to face her fiancée. "If it wasn't because I'd give my Gran a heart attack, I'd leave you in a second for Hermione! Don't think her offer wasn't tempting!"

Hermione coughed, gawking at Lavender like a mad woman. "Lavender!" She gasped, turning red as the students in the Great Hall raised their eyebrows.

"I'm," Lavender stood from the bench, ignoring Hermione and the stares of her fellow peers, "breaking up with you!" She spat and threw him the spoon.

And to the Headmistress' displeasure, and all over the manners her mum taught her, Lavender stuck her finger out at Seamus and retreated out of the Great Hall. Whispers and eyes following her out like buzzings of her stunt.

"…Blimey," Seamus breathed, his eyes connecting in the middle as they stared at the spoon hanging on the tip of his nose. Milk dripping from the sides of his nostrils and a cheerio was stuck in the middle of his brows.

"I know." Dean leaned over and took the spoon off of his best mate's face. "She has uncanny throwing skills." He twirled the spoon between his long fingers. "You should give her a go as a Chaser for the house-team, Harry."

"Not bad at all." Harry nodded his head, his emerald eyes gazing at the spoon along with the rest of the Gryffindor table.

Trying to push away her red blush and ignore the looks of curiosity from her classmates, Hermione added in for distraction, "it'll help her get her anger out if you think about it."

"_Great_." Seamus hissed, cleaning the milk off his face with a napkin Luna handed him. "I could handle Lavender breaking up with me because she's a nobody," he flicked the cheerio away, "but now you're telling me I got ditched by Gryffindor's Chaser?"

"—There has been no break-up, Mister Finnegan." The table went rigid as the Headmistress arrived at the center of the table where all the elder students sat huddled together, discussing Lavender's scene and wondering whether terminating their engagements was as easy as breaking up with the person. "You and Miss Brown know perfectly well that the clause that binds you two together is unbreakable." She frowned at him. "Heated arguments are expect amongst the engaged couples, but no one ever said you were allowed to terminate it."

A nearby Sixth Year Gryffindor groaned. "…I was already rehearsing the lines."

"You will go looking for Miss Brown, Mister Finnegan, and I expect the two of you to fix whatever problem it is you have encountered. And I suggest you do it purely." She pointed her wand at his rolling eyes. "Professor Slughorn is quick in brewing a Truth-Telling Serum. And if it comes to that, Mister Finnegan, you shall never be the same, I assure you."

"…Yes, ma'am." Seamus nodded his head rapidly, eyes staring at the Headmistress' wand with fear.

"_Now_, Mister Finnegan." Professor McGonagall watched as Seamus scrambled out of his seat, shoving his plate of food towards Dean and hurrying out of the doors of the Great Hall. "Miss Granger," the Headmistress turned around slowly, her beady eyes looking at the Brightest Witch of the Age. "How are you and Mister—"

"Good morning." A throat was cleared and Hermione almost dropped Luna's copy of the Quibbler into her goblet of Pumpkin Juice. "Are you ready, Granger?"

All eyes seemed to turn towards Hermione, along with the Headmistress', as she turned a scarlet color. "Um, yeah. I was just...Breakfast - Yes, I'm ready." Hermione composed herself from the nervousness invading her. She handed Luna her newspaper, who took it with a contemplating expression, and rose from the bench.

"Oh well, never mind, Miss Granger." The Professor smiled a minute smile. "I'm sure what you and Mister Malfoy need to discuss is much more important."

Hermione raised her brow at the Headmistress, but said nothing to her comment and she laced her arm with Malfoy's and went with him freely. She hadn't even known she was to be 'discussing' anything with Malfoy at all, but she appreciated the distraction.

"She's giddy," Malfoy commented. "I've never seen her act that way. You know, attempting to smile other than frown at you."

Hermione huffed at the Slytherin. "You've clearly not been paying attention to McGonagall for the past years, Malfoy." She shook her head, walking along with him and not particularly caring where they went as she enjoyed the sudden mood of conversation they were sharing.

It wasn't like yesterday's events went unnoticed, it's just that Hermione preferred to pretend they never happened. Like he didn't put her to bed and Blaise Zabini didn't leave to his chamber crying about a muggle-movie and they weren't on the tipping-point of being friends.

Malfoy shrugged, spreading a smile across his pale face that highlighted his stormy eyes. "I tried not letting the hag get to me. She's the toughest professor at the moment and somehow she's always had it out for me. I'm taking whatever cryptic kick she gets off us being...friendly."

"That is not true, Malfoy. McGonagall's never been unjust to any student before," Hermione replied, ignoring his last bit. "She was never like Snape. If you recall, he was always preferring you lot over everyone else and made the day harder for us than you."

"You make a point, Granger," Malfoy agreed, steering her out of the castle and breathing in a puff of fresh air. Inhaling deeply the clean scent of the grounds of Hogwarts mixing with the cold atmosphere. He felt the Gryffindor shiver from the contact of her exposed skin with the chilly air. "But you have to realize Snape was the Head of the Slytherin House and my Godfather. He couldn't help it if he preferred me over than the Golden Trio."

The cold air blew with another swoosh, Hermione shivered, and like it was the most common thing, Draco threw an arm around her shoulders to try and give her some warmth.

Immediately, she stiffened at his touch. An action that did not go unnoticed by the Slytherin as he narrowed his eyes a little and his arms felt a little heavier around her. Waiting for him to withdraw his arm and mutter an apology or sneer at her, it never came. "Godfather or not," she decided to continue like nothing, "he knew that you were a prat and enjoyed abusing his power on me."

Draco rolled his eyes, trying not to snort. "Typical thing for you, Granger. Worried about the marks Snape would've given you. At least he didn't fail you."

"Not that he never intended to," Hermione pointed out with a scoff. "The Headmaster would've seen straight through it if he decided to fail me. I am top of the class, mind you."

Coming to a stop and making Hermione stumble a bit because of the abruptness of it, Malfoy smirked knowingly. "You're a bit arrogant, aren't you, Granger?" He pulled his arm away from her and slowly sunk to the grassy ground. "I'm intrigued by it."

"I'm not arrogant, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, allowing herself to be dropped on the ground despite her thoughts of the grass being moist from the light rain yesterday night. "Unlike yourself, I don't think I am the ruler of everything."

Malfoy clucked his tongue. "That's where you're wrong, my dear bookworm," he told her as he crossed his legs and eyed her carefully."I don't think I'm the ruler of everything, because if I assumed I was, trust me when I say I wouldn't have survived the war." He shuddered internally at the memory of a snake-like face with dark red eyes, glaring at him. "But congratulations, you know something about me. I am arrogant."

The Gryffindor kept her eyes on the Slytherin, making sure he could see the annoyed look on her face. "Do you pride yourself in that?"

"Do you pride yourself in being a know-it-all?" He retorted quickly.

"In being _intellectual_, Malfoy, I do pride myself in," Hermione explained, clearing the term 'know-it-all' for him. "If I wouldn't have been that then chances are Voldemort would still be ruling about. Harry's a thickhead when it comes to thinking rationally."

With another internal wince, Malfoy shuttered and his blood ran cold from the mention of that forbidden name. No one mentioned it anymore, not the Dark Side nor the Light Side. The Dark Lord had gone back to being He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and never spoken so freely about. Not like he'd been before, but at least Purebloods let go of that demented hope that he'd come back. This was the new world now.

"...You said his name," Malfoy muttered. "Doesn't that frighten you?"

Choosing to shrug and ignore the emotion swimming in his eyes that varied from terror to shame to anger, Hermione turned away from his pale, pointed face. "Wow," she breathed as something else caught her attention. "Where are we?"

"In Hogwarts, Granger."

Hermione pushed his sarcasm away as she found herself too intrigued by what her brown eyes saw. "I've never been here before nor that this place existed."

"We're on a hill between the Black Lake and the Forbidden Forest." Draco pointed a pale finger at the scenery before them. Pointing where the lake collided with the edges of the forest, enhancing the green hue by the deep blue color of the water. He watched as the Gryffindor beside him gazed at the snowy mountains that laid ahead that contrasted with the tallest trees in Hogwarts. Her eyes looking so mesmerized and enchanted. Something Draco was growing proud of: amazing the Gryffindor Princess.

"It's a complete different thing, Granger," he whispered, moving himself closer to the witch, "to read about the grounds of Hogwarts than to sit perfectly still and watch them."

Peace washed over Hermione's face as she breathed in the pine-smell from the trees ahead and gazed at the falling snow from the mountains. "…It's beautiful."

"Its yours."

Hermione whipped her head to the side. "What?"

"Its yours," Draco repeated, looking directly into her eyes. "I found this particular hill when I found the need to escape the world and be on my own. I reckon no one knows about it, though. I've yet seen anyone here, so I give it to you. Whenever you have the need to—" Draco was cut-short as a pair of arms were flung around his neck and his back was thrown his to the ground roughly with a weight suddenly on him.

"Thank you!" She exclaimed, burying her nose into his neck. "This is the best - I - thanks!"

Malfoy patted her back awkwardly yet gently. "...It's what I am here for." Hermione pulled herself up with her palms, not fully off of his body, but enough that her face was a few inches away from his. "...What?" He questioned in a small voice as the Gryffindor stared at him. His breath caught in his throat as Hermione's eyelids closed lightly and she started to lean forward.

And automatically, by the natural nature of men, Draco closed his eyes as well. He inhaled deeply as he waited for something.

One.  
_Merlin_, he thought as he counted.

Two.  
_ Should I stop her?_

Three.  
_ No, I need her to get used to me._

Four.  
_ Suit yourself, you'll be the one enduring it._

Five.  
_ No! I—_

"Ew!" Hermione screeched and Malfoy's eyes popped open again.

"W-what?" He asked, sitting up as Hermione pushed herself off him and took her seat back on the hill.

"I killed it!"

"Killed what?

"The spider on your hair. Ugh, I felt it crunch." She shuddered. "What kind of Gryffindor am I? I had to close my eyes to kill it!"


	11. At the Gryffindor table

**Chapter Eleven**

"Look at her—"

"She's been smiling that way for the past week," Ginny finished Harry's sentence for him as they both stared at Hermione approaching the table with a tall and pale Slytherin linked to her arm. The two were laughing lightly to themselves, a smile plastered on both their faces that was so odd like the air around them seemed to have been breezy and easy.

Ginny smirked at the two while Harry glared discretely. (Oh, the boy and his protect-your-friends-from-the-enemy-or-any-boy ways. But it really wasn't like Hermione had a choice, right? The marriage law screwed many in the process, just like whoever was marrying Goyle.)

"Oi, there you are, 'Mione!" Ginny said loudly, reaching her left arm up high and waving it dramatically like she hadn't seen the girl in ages.

Hermione's brown eyes opened slightly as she noticed Ginny, dropping the laughter instantly like if she'd been caught in something forbidden and was now suddenly ashamed. "I'll just…" She cleared her throat, not finishing the awkward sentence.

"Hello, Weasley, Potter." Draco Malfoy nodded slightly, trying to courteously notice Ginny and Harry's presence and stopp Hermione's awkward goodbye in the process.

Ginny continued to smirk as she lowered her arm, her eyes landing on the Slytherin with an over-the-top smile. "Malfoy, having a good day so far?" She asked as her boyfriend mumbled a 'Hello'.

"Nothing that I can complain about, Weasley," Malfoy replied politely as he helped Hermione onto the bench; unlinking his arm from hers. "How about yours?" He asked without actually caring, but he knew every point counted with his fiancée.

"It's been charming," Ginny answered, lacing her slender fingers with Harry's left ones; clasping their hands tightly. And then, almost too directly, she lifted their hands onto the table and exposed them to Malfoy and Hermione.

"Ginny," Hermione breathed, noticing her pale hand over Harry's, "you've got a ring!" The brunette exclaimed happily as she ripped Ginny's hand away from her future-husband . "It's beautiful." She eyed the diamond on the golden band with a sincere expression on her face. It was quite perfect. Simple, but dazzling. Just like the relationship Harry and Ginny seemed to have. "Oh, Harry, when did you give it to her?"

"This morning." Harry blushed unwillingly for a second, but then wiped it away as Malfoy looked down at the ring. He didn't quite picture the day he would tell his best friends that he was marrying Ginny with Malfoy present, or around at all for that matter. (Well, not if he wasn't serving drinks in the back, but that was Harry's idea of revenge three years ago.) "I had Andromeda select it seeing as I didn't want Mrs. Weasley to actually swoon over our engagement until the Holidays."

"And there'll be plenty of that," Ginny huffed.

"Andromeda has excellent taste." Hermione let the redhead's arm go. "It's like she knew exactly what you'd like, Gin. "

Ginny grinned in gratitude, but her eyes stared at her ring lovingly. She was trying to push off some of the emotion she felt when Harry slipped it on that had stuck with her all day, but she couldn't, could she? She was tougher than this and surely Ginevra Weasley couldn't be going soft, right? Right. (But then again, she had been daydreaming about that moment since she first met him.)

"Actually, I think Andromeda chose it perfectly for Harry's liking. We spent practically all summer with her and little Teddy, arranging the Black house for her, that she grew so fond of Harry." She patted Harry's hand, smiling softly. "I reckon she thought that if Harry loved it, I would too."

Thinking back to the deceased Nymphadora Tonks, grandmother to little Teddy Lupin, Hermione couldn't help herself and smiled. "She's such a lovely woman, even through what's happened to her." And then a sad thought entered her head: death. Mrs. Tonks was the victim of death who'd come and taken her husband, her daughter, and her son-in-law. "All she has is Teddy—and you too, of course, Harry. Not to mention the Weasleys. There's no doubt why she's so fond of you."

Draco watched with irritated gray eyes as the three Gryffindors talked about Andromeda Tonks; one of his mother's oldest sisters. She was a woman that'd been disowned by every member of the most ancient and noble family of Black when she was young. She was despised for marrying a Muggle-Born, for abandoning her family, for betraying her pureblooded legacy, and was never heard from again. She was secluded and blasted off of the Black Family Tree—literally.

And not to help matters, he couldn't stand the flicker of something as Granger kept complimenting Boy Wonder like he was the holiest thing she'd ever laid eyes upon. Had she no decency? His future wife was present and she continued to swoon over him.

"I should get going," Malfoy said with a clear of his throat.

"Nonsense, Malfoy." Ginny shook her fiery hair, interrupting the Slytherin as her smirk came back to play on her freckly-face. "You don't have to go anywhere."

"He doesn't?" Hermione and Harry asked in unison, both looking at the redhead with confused expressions and questioning stares.

Ignoring her friend's wide eyes, Ginny kept her too innocent smile on the Slytherin. "You'll be marrying 'Mione soon and it's about time you two actually socialize together, not just when you are all alone in the chamber. Which, if I might say, I've my doubts about. I have a wager with Luna that the two of you've blown up the walls by now."

"—When the bloody hell did she get all understanding?" Dean Thomas sat himself on the left side of Hermione, noticing Malfoy's hesitant figure sitting himself down on her other side. "She was never like this when we were dating. It was always, 'You pushed me Dean! I know you did!' Bloody girl's a menace, I'm telling you."

Harry and Hermione shared a knowing stare, both of them laughing silently.

"Where'd you leave Luna?" Ginny asked, frowning at the dark boy.

Dean shrugged. "…She's probably out prancing around, I expect. She keeps disappearing on me before I could actually talk to her. The only times we seem to be having a conversation is in those ruddy classes. And honestly, I prefer if she didn't talk to me at all if she's being forced to it." His face turned back to the miserable expression he'd been wearing for the past week.

Hermione patted his shoulder soothingly before her arm wrapped around it. "Don't worry, Dean, you know Luna will come around. I just...I assume that she can't get her head wrapped around this, you know. It's been tough on most of us, I can imagine how she feels."

Though he felt that stupid and unorthodox displeasure for Granger's obvious liking in comforting others, Draco couldn't help himself but stare at the brunette with a shine to his eyes. A warmness seemed to have spread in his conscience as he notice that nobility that defined her.

Could he be growing fond of her?

No. No. No. He wasn't. (_Keep focus, Draco. You start thinking like a lunatic and it's straight to St. Mungo's for you,_ he thought this himself sternly.)

And although he debated with himself, he couldn't help but realize that the past week had actually been alright. Not the best of his life, mind you, but not the worst either.

Draco turned to see Ginny nodding in agreement with the brunette's words. "Luna used to talk about traveling the world, Dean. During the summer we'd have sleepovers and we would spend all night talking about what we wanted to do. She never expected that before she could even graduate Hogwarts she'll be tied down to someone and all those dreams to have been ruined."

At the words of Ginny Weasley, Draco and Harry both breathed in through their teeth, wincing at the words, and shaking their heads. They looked at each other having heard the others reaction and exchanged a small smirk.

"What?" Both girls asked as they looked at their respective fiancées.

Malfoy cleared his throat and leaned closer to the Gryffindor tabletop to speak directly to the redheaded witch. "Did you not hear what you just said, Weasley?"

"You made it sound awful, Gin," Harry added before Ginny could get into a row with Malfoy over the words that left her lips. "You and Hermione practically told Dean that he ruined Luna's life."

"And you're supposed to be sensitive?" Malfoy grunted, shaking his blonde hair at Hermione. "You crushed the bloke - Look at him!" He pointed a finger at Dean's face.

The Gryffindor sat there, his eyes slightly wide, glistening, and with his jaw dropped. He appeared to be in a state of shock, like someone had just told him his beloved had died.

"I - we - Dean - It wasn't meant like - _Dean_!" Hermione spluttered as the dark-skinned wizard jumped from the bench and stalked away in misery and a hurry as he ignored her "…Merlin," Hermione groaned, still looking after Dean's leaving figure.

"Honestly," Ginny scoffed, her eyes glaring at Harry and Draco. "I don't know why you two spent all these years hating each other, you make a bloody wicked team."

Both wizards turned away from each other, feeling uncomfortable by the redhead's words.

"I doubt he'll forgive us anytime soon, Ginny." Hermione sighed in defeat as she turned her head back to the couple in front of her. "I think we really messed this one up."

"Do you actually suppose," Malfoy spoke up, trying to rid his fiancée from the guilt and the torture he would be sucked into if the witches began to talk about feelings and emotions, "that the Lovegood girl actually hates him?"

Hermione shook her head tiredly. "She's just overwhelmed."

"Not to mention that our Luna does not hate," Ginny chirped as she adjusted her ring. "My guess is with Hermione too. Luna might just be feeling overwhelmed. Marriage was something shoved in the back of her brilliant head and now it's a frightening reality."

"Well, Merlin, Gin. Didn't know you were so terrified of joining your soul with mine." Harry stared at her teasingly, chuckling. "We could cancel the wedding if you wish. I hear Romilda Vane isn't happy with her pairing. Who'd she get, anyway? Oh yeah," Harry snapped his fingers, leering at his girlfriend, "Cormac McLaggen. And if I can say so myself, I'm better than that git."

Ginny scowled and then turned to punch him on the arm. "Prat."

"Oi!" Harry flinched. "That hurt! The ring's on that hand!"

"Tell Romilda to sooth it!" Ginny punched again.

"And that is why—" Ron appeared out of nowhere, making himself noticed as he joined the table and seated himself on Harry's side. His big hands were carrying a plate of food, packed until a bit of mash-potatoes dripped from the ends. "You should be happy, Malfoy, that Hermione was raised without brothers." Ron scooped a spoon-full of potatoes and shoved it into his mouth; grinning widely at Hermione and his nemesis.

The other four students exchanged glances.

"Um...why are you looking at me like that?" Ron asked as he swallowed, grabbing a goblet of Pumpkin Juice from the front of his sister's plate.

"Well, for starters, we haven't seen you all this week," Hermione began, raising her eyebrow as she tossed her redheaded friend a napkin. "You don't appear in your usual ghoul-ish mood and you just addressed Malfoy like he was your best mate."

"I can continue hating him, if you like," Ron suggested before taking a swig of his juice. "I'm trying to cooperate in this mess, just like you asked that day in the library, but if you'd like I can hex him right here if it makes things feel normal for you, 'Mione."

Draco glared. "Don't consider yourself so talented, Weasel."

"Okay. Okay." Hermione wrapped her fingers around Draco's arm to restrain him from reaching for his wand and starting something that would end badly for one of the two. "Ron, did you take some of that plant Neville's been growing for the past year? He told you it was experimental and for the use of Herbology only, not for you to intake"

_Cling!_

"Oh, wicked. So now we're having our meals with the Gryffindors?" A plate-set was dropped onto the Gryffindor table. "Brilliant. Didn't know this was allowed, but does it actually matter?" Blaise Zabini grinned at all of them as Goyle took a seat next to him; both of them waving at the staring faces of the Gryffindors and at the annoyed look on their fellow Slytherin's face. "We are making history here. I feel revolutionary. Don't you, Greg?" Blaise continued to speak, as he took a biscuit from Ginny's plate.

"What in Merlin's great, big saggy—"

"Zabini," Hermione huffed, interrupting Ron's curse of the greatest wizard known, "if you're going to be sitting in another house-table that isn't yours, shouldn't it be the Ravenclaw one?"

The Slytherin shook his head. "Cho doesn't like me around when she eats."

"Already in first-name bases?"

"They sort of are obligated after she watched him sob hysterically," Malfoy answered Ginny. "I do believe she had to make him a cup of hot tea, wrap a blanket around him, and hum him to sleep." He snickered along with Goyle, Potter and the Weasel.

Blaise's emerald eyes glared. "I wasn't sobbing, Malfoy." He pointed his knife that he'd been using to cut his steak at his best mate. "Your woman," Hermione blushed at his choice of words; Ron and Harry frowned, "made me that cup of tea, and I was cold, you prat!"

"How'd you explain the humming then, mate?" Malfoy smirked deeper.

"The bloke died, Malfoy!" Blaise slammed his silverware down. "Frozen! To save the life of his beloved! If that can't make you cry, then you're an insensitive bastard!"

Draco rolled his eyes. "I'm never inviting you to see a muggle-movie ever again. You're embarrassing and I can't be seen with you when you react in that manner."

"Don't worry about it, Zabini." Hermione leaned forward and smiled at the angry-faced Slytherin. "Girls like some of that sensitivity and romanticism. I expect Cho was rather pleased to find that in you. Most of the lot she dated were jerks."

"Oi!" Harry frowned. "I was not a—"

"Shut it!" And again, Ginny punched her fiancée on the arm.

"There you are!" Another plate was dropped on the table. A tall, pale, dark-haired Slytherin witch arrived with an irritated look on her pug face. "I was sitting on my own for twenty minutes wondering where my mates had wandered off to when, can you believe it, they were behind me in the Gryffindor table!" Pansy Parkinson glared at the three Slytherins. "Do you know how much of Millicent's rubbish I had to endure? The witch couldn't shut her trap about Macmillan." She reached for Harry's goblet and took a swig from it; her face turning less red as she drank. "Does it look like," she handed Harry the goblet back, "I care if she finds the Hufflepuff sweet?"

Chuckling as he could see Pansy growing angrier and angrier as Millicent Bullstrode swooned over her little Hufflepuff, Draco said, "never been one for the love-thing, have you, Pans?"

Not answering him, Pansy settled and making a crude gesture at him and then turning to Ron. "Hello," she greeted in a tone that contrasted the mood she'd approached with. Ron looked up from his now empty plate and her dark eyes glittered. "Full already, darling?"

Ron nodded once like a trained puppy and stretched a little from the bench and he pressed his lips softly on Pansy's. There was a smile on his face and his blue eyes glittered the same way the girl's had.

"Ron!" Ginny hissed as she leaned over Harry's head—which he'd dropped on the tabletop, groaning about what he had just seen—and smacked her brother beside the head. "You drank all my Pumpkin Juice, you prat!"

Smiling thankfully that his sister had completely ignored the fact that he'd just kissed Pansy and he was blushing, Ron happily refilled her goblet and handed it back to her. And as he did so, he noticed Zabini was the one who was still gaping. "_What_?"

"What?" Blaise repeated "That's just wrong, that's what!"

Pansy rolled her eyes, no blush on her face because she thought nothing of her action. "Come off it, Zabini, I saw what you did to Daphne Greengrass our Sixth Year. You shouldn't have any complaints because Ron and I simply kiss."

"That—" Blaise dropped his accusing finger. "You said you wouldn't say anything!"

"Obviously it was a lie." Draco laughed, half-smirking at Parkinson. (He didn't want to admit it, but he felt a genuine feeling for how bright her face was glowing. Something he'd never seen on her before, though he couldn't deny he felt a bit sickened that it was because of the Weasel King.) "You seem to be forgetting that we don't keep promises."

"Some of us actually do, Drake." Pansy stuck out her tongue at him and clasped her hand with Ron's. "Well, the ones that are actually important to us, that is." She leaned to her right and pressed her lips to Ron's again.

"Okay, okay, I can't." Hermione stood from the table as Draco pulled her forward; both of them standing up quickly, not wanting to witness that atrocity again.

"Too much of that and I wont be sleeping at night." Draco gagged as he pulled himself out of the Gryffindor bench, his fiancée copying his actions. "Have a pleasant night." He inclined his head to all of them and hurried away.

Hermione, following Malfoy's pursuit, watched his face with curious eyes as they rushed away like if the castle was on fire and it was their fault. He had a pink tint to his cheeks and a nervous look on his gray eyes. "Are you alright?" She asked him, her gaze moving away from the Slytherin's face and onto their hands.

He was holding her hand, fingers intertwined with hers and clutching tightly like he had no intention of letting go.

Draco cleared his throat. "Of course."

"Then why do you look all flustered, Malfoy?"

"Don't you have an Astronomy lesson to get to?" He snapped automatically.

Hermione frowned at his mood change, throwing off his hand from hers in the process. "Go to hell, Malfoy," she hissed at him, leaving him behind as she stalked faster.

Draco groaned internally as he stopped for a second, his blood rushing heavily through his body. "Granger!" He ran a couple of steps and reached for her arm; spinning her around swiftly and her body pressing up onto his instantly.

There was a silence, but their breathing was heard from each other at their close contact.

Draco swallowed the moment, clearing his throat as he watched her big, brown eyes blink at him with a bit of surprise. "...Have a great lesson. I'll wait for you in the chamber." And as his brain rushed with every blink her eyes gave, he decided to take action and he pressed his lips on the pale surface of her cheek; softly, but igniting the redness from them.

Hermione bit her lip, she could feel her heart give a strange beat. "…Goodbye," she murmured and spun slowly from him to head towards the grounds with a feeling that made her dizzy.

"Goodbye," Malfoy repeated after the Gryffindor, a deep smirk on his face as she watched her stumble her way out of the doors of the castle. "This is going to be much easier than I thought," he said to himself as the ideas and formulated plans invaded his head.

He was going to win this, he knew. She didn't stand a chance.

* * *

**AN: It's March 16th 2012 and I'm still in the middle of re-editing this story for all of you.** **I hope that so far you're liking the changes, if you're reading, and if you're new, I hope you power through it lol.**

**Also, I should clear up that every time I write something in between (parenthesis) ****it isn't an AN. It's just a part of story, like a side comment that character thought. **

**But, alas, good day to you all! (:**


	12. What You Find at Night

**Chapter Twelve**

_Bang! Bang! Bang! _

"Blimey." Dean Thomas sat up quickly from the couch in his chamber, tossing the Witch Weekly magazine he had found on the stone-steps when he'd been heading towards his headquarters. "Who in the bloody hell—"

_ Bang! Bang! Bang! _

"I'm going! I'm going!" Dean shouted at whoever was knocking furiously on the door. "Bloody people cant see it's past midnight? I'm trying to sleep freaking peacefully without any—" He flung open the door and stopped his rambling when he's eyes found a pair of brown ones. "Lavender?"

Mimicking the exact raised eyebrow her fellow Seventh Year Gryffindor was sporting, Lavender Brown tapped her foot impatiently outside his door as she carried her blanket and a pillow. "Dean," she greeted blankly.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, noticing the items in her possession.

Lavender chose to ignore the obvious question for the moment. "Well, are you going to allow me to come inside or not? The Head Boy is roaming the corridor over and I can't handle any detention at my depressing moment."

"Erm, yeah. Okay. Come in," Dean said hesitantly as he moved to the side and allowed her access to his chamber. "…So, to what do I owe your visit this late?" (_And how the hell did you find out where my chamber was?_ He added in afterthought.)

Lavender scooped up the Witch Weekly magazine before answering. "Seamus Finnegan," was what she hissed after a second, flipping the pages furiously. "He's a bloody troll, a downright git, and not to mention a thickheaded prat, a pathetic ghoul—well, you get the point, don't you?"

"Though I'm sure you can go on for hours insulting my best mate, could you just get to the point?" Dean said tiredly, slowly sitting on the couch. "I was actually busy before you came banging along."

"Sleeping, Dean? That's what you were so occupied with?" Lavender scoffed and then rolled her eyes as the boy mumbled a 'whatever' to her statement. "Anyway, I came for help, alright?" She dropped the magazine and crossed her eyes determinedly. "Seamus has been behaving out of order lately, and I can't stand it any longer. Merlin knows that I tried the first week of this...this _rubbish_ the Ministry unleashed on us, but I can't seem to get through to him."

Dean rubbed his eyes and mumbled, "attempting to murder him, Lav, doesn't count as trying."

"It's my rage, Dean!" Lavender stood from the armchair and stalked her way towards him and joined him on the couch to groan and grunt. Her face was twisted up in mere annoyance. "It's one thing to understand that he's freaked out over the marriage, but another different thing is to handle his rejections and humiliation."

"Lav," Dean put a dark palm on her shoulder, shoving away her dirty-blonde hair from the way, "you've got to understand that Seamus fancied that Ravenclaw girl for ages. You can't expect him to be alright when they forced a marriage on him with you—his _friend_."

"That's the thing, Dean," Lavender scooted a few centimeters closer and snuggled up to his neck. She felt comfort when his arm wrapped around her shoulder to ease some of her anger. "…I'm tired of being second choice. Ron was right when he said those things...I'm always setting my hopes for a bloke who can't see me...Who wants someone else no matter how much I try."

Dean felt a few wet spots trickle on his neck and he shifted uncomfortably on his couch. Dealing with emotional girls was never his forte.

"I did it with Ron. I tried my hardest for him to forget about Hermione...tried to make him see that he was happier off with me...And it was all for nothing. He ended up leaving me for her. And now with Seamus...I don't want him to marry me and then curse his days until he dies..." She sniffled into his neck, a small whimper mixed with her shaky voice. "I don't want to be second choice anymore, Dean."

Dean sighed and tore her away from the crook of his neck so he could look her fully in the eyes."I can't really justify what Weasley did, but as for Seamus, all you really can do is continue being yourself. Maybe then the thickhead will open his eyes and notice what a great witch you are."

Lavender groaned a little. "Waiting is what you're suggesting? We both know I'm not patient, Dean."

Dean gave her a small smile. "It's the best I can come up with. And we both know I'm rubbish at the emotional, talking stuff," he chuckled lightly.

After wiping away her tears, Lavender joined too as she felt a bit better about her situation with Seamus. She had to trust Dean's words, right? Dean was her fiancée's best mate after all, and he knew more than anyone the way Seamus thought.

"...Where's Luna?" Lavender asked as their laughter resided.

"She has Astronomy at the moment," Dean said, removing the look of momentary amusement from his dark complexion. "But I expect she'll be at Ravenclaw Tower for the rest of the night." He looked at her, trying to place an indifferent look on his face. He was tired of showing everyone that he was depressed over the eccentric Ravenclaw. "…I heard a couple of them whispering about a sleepover so I assume she'll be there with a few of her friends."

Though she could see Dean's cloudy eyes trying to mask his disapproval of Luna's lack of presence, Lavender decided she could be selfish and take use of the situation. "Oh. Well, do you mind if I sleep her?" She asked gently. "I'm sort of trying to give Seamus his space." She added a grin. "Its this new thing I'm trying."

"Sure." Dean patted her shoulder, looking at her sympathetically. (He personally knew how thickheaded Seamus could be when it came to handling witches, so he sympathized with Lavender even if he thought she was bonkers.)"I'll take the couch and you can take the room. Just don't go about messing with Luna's things, she notices everything."

Lavender smiled excitedly as she rose from the couch. "Thank you, Dean. Honestly." She bent down towards him and placed a kiss on his cheek. And as she was lifting her head up once again, she took a long look into his brown eyes. Noticing that they held a strange sort of light, something warm and comforting; something that could make anyone smile.

"I'll just..." And before she decided to head towards his room and leave the uncomfortable situation, her selfishness took over, hungry for comfort and someone to appreciate her so she closed her eyes and placed her lips on his.

** X**

"Well, if it isn't Draco Malfoy." A wand with the Lumos spell shining brightly at its tip was pointed towards the Slytherin entering his chamber. "The friend of every Gryffindor in Hogwarts."

Malfoy frowned, squinting a little by the light attempting to blind him. "Care to lower your wand from my face before I shove it up your—"

"Language, Draco." The wand-tip was lowered and extinguished as Draco Malfoy sent a spell to a lamp nearby. The chamber instantly brightened up completely. "Wouldn't want the Muggle-Born to be upset over her fiancée's lack of manners, would you?"

"Amused, are you, Blaise?" Draco glared at his friend, knocking his feet off his tea-table as he passed through. "How in Salazar's name did you get here quicker than I did?"

Blaise shrugged casually as he placed his feet back onto the table. "I saw you flirting with a Fifth Year," he said with a cluck of his tone. "I was walking Cho to the Ravenclaw tower, where she was having a fun sleepover and wished not to invite me, when I saw you, dear Draco, batting your eyelashes at that girl."

"First of all, I don't bat my eyelashes, Zabini," Draco grunted as he dropped himself down on one of the armchairs. "And secondly, I'm going to be warding my chamber from now on. So don't be surprised if you're blinded by boils as they begin squeezing out of your sockets next time you're trying to sneak your way in."

"Descriptive, aren't you mate?" Blaise smirked unmoved by his threat. "Besides, you should really be more perceptive of where and with who you do your flirting with. If the old hag McGonagall catches you feeling up another witch who isn't the Gryffindor Princess she might hex the Malfoy jewels right off. I don't believe cheating is tolerated with the engaged couples."

Draco scoffed and kicked off his shoes, sending them flying towards Blaise's feet. "The Headmistress can't bloody say anything about my actions until I am married with the Mud—with the Bookworm," he cleared his throat quickly, bashing himself mentally for almost using that word. (Pansy was right. Old customs really do die hard.) "Other than that, I'm free as a ruddy owl. And as for my 'flirting', I was doing no such thing. I might not be so keen about joining my soul and entire future with Granger, but I've some decency in me, Blaise. I'm not a cheater."

"Ha!" Blaise let out a loud snort as he untied the knot from his emerald tie. "Do you remember that year when you went out with Pansy? You practically sucked on every Slytherin witches face. How'd you explain that?"

Draco shrugged, indifference written all over his pale expression. "I can't, but it isn't like Pansy could reproach anything since she had a go with Theodore Nott in our little romantic adventure." The pale Slytherin shot a mocking look towards his best mate. "And you too, if I remember clearly."

Blaise coughed awkwardly. "I had your best interests at heart, mate. I wanted to know if Pansy was loyal or not." He grinned at his friend as he launched his tie to the floor. "And guess what, mate? She's a loose wench."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Clearly, Blaise. Why else did she consider letting Crabbe feel her up? I was just surprised you went down that infected road."

"I was just but a child back then, Drake," Blaise replied smoothly and trying not to look guilty for betraying him years back. "I didn't know that the world was filled with beauties that kept their virtues and didn't snog their boyfriend's mates." He cleared his throat. "Do you reckon we should warn Weasley about it? Wouldn't be surprised if Pans tried giving Potter a go."

"And take the chance of being hexed by Ginny Weasley?" Malfoy snorted at that possibility. "Pans is not that thick. And besides," Draco unwillingly received flashbacks of the kiss shared between his friend and the Gryffindor Weasel, "she seems to have changed a lot. No longer….What's the word?"

"Sluty?" Blaise finished with a smirk and a nod. "Hope Weasley has good intentions. It wouldn't matter if he tries to hurt her, they're already getting married, but it's just good to see Pans so….."

"_Happy_?" This time Draco finished the sentence.

"A bit daunting, isn't it?" Blaise mumbled, kicking his shoes off as well. "This entire Marriage Law. We were all in the beginning sure that this was doom to all of us, but some are actually finding...soul mates."

"Do you include yourself in the lot?" Malfoy sneered, trying hard not to grunt at the soft tone in his mate's voice.

He was secretly a bit nostalgic for the Blaise that hated everything just like him the previous years of their friendship. But seeing everything much clear, he had to admit that it seemed that _that_ Blaise was repressed into acting as someone who he wasn't because of the situation they were in, because it was needed to survive being Death Eaters. (Draco even wondered if his best friend even belonged in Slytherin with the heart he had.)

"I can't say that I'm in love with Cho Chang," he ignored Malfoy's amused tone as he pulled a serious expression on his face, "because, I don't think I am. But I've certainly found a great friend in her. And if by the time our marriage rolls around and we've yet fallen in love, then it's better to be married to someone who's my friend than someone I want to murder."

Draco dropped his smirk instantly and replaced it with a hard expression. Cold gray eyes stared at his best friend at the stupidity he'd just said; like all of this was fine and dandy. "Do you reckon this was for the best then? Getting paired up with people we would've never dreamed of socializing with?"

"You have to broaden your mind, mate," Blaise said simply. "Think about the generations of Purebloods that have existed all these centuries. They've all married themselves to keep the legacy going. I, for one, didn't intend to marry a second-cousin. And this way, well, we got to see what's out there." He coughed uncomfortably and looked at the marbled floor. "What about you and Granger? I've seen the way both of you seem to be getting along. Brilliant, isn't it? Not to have her threatening you every moment?"

Draco too looked at the floor. His friend's words circling around the walls of his brain. Sure, Malfoy had to admit that it was for the best not to have the Brightest Witch of the Age pointing her skilled wand at his face, but he couldn't really say he was enjoying it. He was marrying his nemesis for his mother's sake.

"Well...I've got to make this work somehow, don't I?"

Blaise raised his head quickly, lifting one dark brow at his friend. "Meaning?"

"Meaning," Draco stood quickly from the armchair, "that if I'm going to have to marry Granger without her complaining every damned second, I'm going to need to keep the peace between us. If I'm going to restore the respect to the Malfoy's name then I'm going to have to make her fall in love with me."

Blaise opened his jaw abruptly. "You're going to trick her?"

"Obviously. I've been coming up with plans for a while now and I've discovered a few weaknesses the Gryffindor has. I suspect that I can charm her without much effort." Draco pulled off his tie as well and tossed it on the armrest of his chair. "It'll be a smoother road for me if I can have the Bookworm cooperate willingly. Imagine how it would look in the front pages of the Daily Prophet, Blaise," he said quickly, longing brewing in his gray eyes. "Imagine what the Wizarding World would say if they knew that Lucius Malfoy's son, ex Death Eater, married part of the Golden Trio? That she's completely in love and sees the fondness of the Malfoys?"

"You can't be serious, mate." Blaise stood too, placing his tie back on around his neck. "Using Granger for your own benefit is wrong, Drake. Lying to her that you can possibly feel the same isn't right...You can't lead her down that path, come on."

Draco eyed Blaise confusedly as the latter tied his tie hurriedly. "I won't hurt her, Blaise, if that's why you're getting your knickers into a twist. Well, not unless she doesn't provoke me, that is. I'll try to have everything perfect for her so she can be in bliss. Then in a couple of months after the wedding, a year maybe, I'll tell her the truth. Show her that I've never been in love with her." Malfoy let out a small humorless chuckle. "She'll know it's true. How else could I so agreeably marry her if there wasn't anything in interest for me?"

"….Make the rest of her life miserable, right?" Blaise huffed, summoning his shoes towards him. "That's the plan, Malfoy? Have the witch believe she's in heaven _then_ throw her into Pureblood hell?"

"She'll be fine as long as she knows not to provoke me after that_—Where are you going?_" Draco asked suddenly, noticing his friend shove his feet angrily back into his shoes.

"I told you Cho was planning on having a sleepover with her sister and a few others at the Ravenclaw Common Room tonight," Blaise hissed, fixing his robes. "And seeing as I was going to be on my own, I figured I could spend some time with you and your lovely soon-to-be bride, but clearly that was a mistake."

"Drop the dramatics, Zabini. You can't actually be developing a soft spot for the Bookworm, can you? This isn't even your—"

But the rest was cut off when the door of the chamber opened. "Zabini, what are you doing here? Up for another movie?" Hermione smiled tiredly at Draco's friend, dropping her schoolbag by the entrance door. Her brown eyes peering up at him half-closing as they swam with exhaustion.

"No, I was...I've gotten suddenly a bit disgusted." The dark Slytherin tried not to growl or send a sympathetic look towards the Gryffindor. "I think I'm becoming ill. Best if I go find Cho and leave you to rest, Hermione," he pronounced the last word clearly so his best friend could hear it; answering his question in the process. (Yes, he had developed a soft-spot for the girl.)

Hermione shook her brown curls, yawning lightly. "It's no problem, Blaise." She too caught his use of her first name and decided to return the gesture. "You can stay here with Malfoy or I can brew you a quick remedy if you'd like. I'm no Madam Pomfrey, but I'm a bit useful with healing potions."

Blaise softened his eyes a fraction. (_Salazar_, he thought, _poor beaver-beave has no idea was she's getting herself into._)

"Thanks, Hermione, but I'll pass. I think it's time I enjoy my own chamber for a change." He patted her shoulder gently, and then flew past to the door.

At the loud bang and dramatic way Zabini closed the door, Hermione turned to Malfoy before yawning. "What was that about?" She walked slowly towards him, dragging her feet as her eyelids grew heavy.

Taking advantage of one of her long blinks, Draco stared at the Gryffindor Princess with sincere eyes. Trying to shake off every emotion of hate he'd ever felt for her. He tried pushing the orders his father used to shout at him that told him to remember that it mattered not that she was a girl, she was still filth and should be treated as such. He tried erasing all those times he sent scowls, insults, smirks, and curses at her.

And then he saw it simply—saw her simply.

She was just a girl.

"Malfoy, what was wrong with Blaise?" Hermione repeated in a low voice, reaching him as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyelids.

Draco cleared his throat and placed his arm around her waist, pulling her up in one swift motion and carrying her as he made sure her arms were tightly wrapped around his neck so she wouldn't slip off. "…It was nothing," Malfoy muttered as he opened the door to their room. "Blaise is just too involved in some thoughts."

"Can I help him?" She spoke so gently and dimly, allowing Malfoy all these actions. Even to place her on the bed as sleep rained down onto her like pixie dust. (However, she mentally counted that it was the third time he'd put her to sleep when she could no long muster the strength to do herself.)

"No," Malfoy mumbled to her, joining her into the mattress and pulling the covers over them. He caught sight of her lip trembling lightly and knew that she was cold, so without thinking too much about it, Draco spread an arm around her waist as she turned over, giving him her back. He pulled her gently towards him so his nose was buried into her brown curls, allowing himself that as she soon closed her eyelids.

She didn't notice or hear anything as she went directly to sleep.

"….You're doing enough already," he whispered as he too closed his eyes and joined her in sleep.


	13. Effects of Nargles

**Chapter Thirteen**

Luna skipped her way through the corridor, humming to herself as her long blonde hair bounced behind her; hearing nothing but the sounds of her feet and heartbeat as the moonlight seared in from one of the tallest windows.

She couldn't believe she was actually going to do this. Sure, she was no Gryffindor, but Luna Lovegood was no coward either and it was about time for her to stop acting like one. She had made up her mind days ago and it was time for her to go forward.

It was all or nothing.

Luna stopped on her tracks as she came face to face with the door to her chamber. "I'm here," she mumbled to herself. "What do I do now?"

_ What do you mean, what do you do now_, The Ravenclaw imagined the voice of her best friend Ginny Weasley sound through her head. _You go in there, wake the thickhead up, and ask him to be yours forever!_

"In that order?" Luna felt a bead of sweat form on her forehead as she replied to the voice.

_Do it! _Ginny's voice ordered loudly; making Luna flinch from the echo that bounced in her brain.

Luna walked to the door, twisting the key the Headmistress had given her when she gave Luna and Dean the chamber. She inhaled, taking a few seconds to collect herself, and then proceeded to push herself past the door as she smiled lightly and shook out the voice of her best friend from her head. (She had to remind herself that although she was a Lovegood, hearing voices still wasn't sane.)

"Crap, crap, crap. Where did I leave my_—Luna_!" At exactly the moment Luna began to head towards the bedroom of the chamber, Dean stormed out of it. His bare chest gleaming from the candlelight inside the chamber, captivating the petite Ravenclaw. "What are you—I thought you were staying at Ravenclaw Tower tonight?"

"I was," Luna replied softly, watching all of his glory as he approached her. She never quite noticed the magnitude of the brilliancy he was. The way his bright brown eyes shone radiantly, the way his soft dark skin seemed to look inviting and warm, or the way everything about him fascinated her.

"But I decided to come home," she laughed at the simple complexity of it. "I wanted to...erm...tell you something...Well, ask you would be more like it."

Dean stopped in front of her, almost towering over her. He watched as she smiled a soft, gentle, dreamy smile. Her crystal eyes looking up at him adoringly. He tried not to, but seeing as he couldn't help himself in her presence, he smiled back at her. "…I'm glad you came back, Luna."

The blonde Ravenclaw continued to smile as she began to kneel down, her gaze never moving from the Gryffindor's face as she did so. "Dean, I'm sorry for acting so distant these past days. I know that my actions have hurt you...but please trust me when I say that I wasn't doing it to harm you. I just needed a moment to myself to evaluate everything that I feel for you." And in one knee, Luna scooted herself closer to the Gryffindor. "Dean, I love you. Honestly, I do. Ever since Shell Cottage, I knew it_—Will you marry me?_" Luna reached for his hand, clasping it gently but firmly with hers. Her pale skin contrasted with his dark skin.

"…You love me?" Dean whispered, his heart beating fast from the overjoy.

"Yes," Luna murmured, biting her lip as she felt a strange sensation to cry. (Damn those Nargles. They were still after her.)

Dean bent down across from her, clutching her hand like a lifeline. "I love you too, Luna." He traced his free palm along her pale, rosy cheek. "And of course I will marry—"

"Dean, I think I'll go back before—" The rest was cut off.

Luna Lovegood's eyes opened wide as she noticed a witch emerge from the room she shared with Dean. A towel was wrapped around her body and her dirty-blonde hair dripping at the side of her neck from the apparent shower she had just exited.

"Merlin."

"Lavender?" Luna rose from the floor, letting her hand slip from Dean's.

"Bloody hell." Lavender looked between Luna and Dean; her eyes scanning them with guilt glittering in her orbs and her face bright red of embarrassment. "Look, Luna, it's not what—"

"You love me?" Luna mumbled to Dean as she stepped away from him and the almost-naked Lavender Brown.

"I do, Luna! I love _you_, I swear it." Dean tried taking her hand but the petite Ravenclaw spun on her heels, heading towards the door and yanking it open.

"Luna!" Dean and Lavender shouted together, but no response was heard. Just the sounds of her whimpers radiating off the marbled walls.

**X**

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" Ron Weasley came from inside the castle, strutting himself towards the tree besides the edge of the Black Lake where his best friends sat; their school bags thrown around them and books on their laps. "The sun is out and the birds are singing!"

"You're pathetic," Harry added in the same sing-song tone as his friend reached them. "What the bloody hell are you even on about?" He asked as Ron shrugged his comment off and sat himself on the grass. "Don't tell me you and Parkinson...?"

"Ugh, reading here." Hermione scowled at her two friends as Harry chuckled and Ron turned deep red and she lifted up her Herbology book towards them. "I'm trying to read about plants, not of what Ron's been doing inside of his chamber."

"Or inside of Parkinson."

"_Harry_!" Hermione raised her eyebrows high. "That's filthy!"

"Ginny taught me." The Boy-Who-Lived sent a wink at his female best friend.

"Mention my sister in inappropriate ways again and you'll wish that Voldemort finished you off," Ron hissed, still keeping his smile on his face but mastering a murdering look.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Ron, go to your happy place," she inquired casually, her brown eyes returning to the pages of her book.

The redhead did exactly what the brunette ordered, and so, he inhaled three heavy times; humming lightly as he exhaled the air . "Release...Release." He fluttered open his blue eyes and smiled again at Harry and Hermione. "Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Harry raised an eyebrow, exposing his legendary scar as his untidy hair was blown backward by the air. "Parkinson must really have done a wonderful job in the—_Ow_!" He flinched as a pebble was sent his way and it hit him directly over the nose. "What was that for?" He frowned at the girl, rubbing his forehead.

"He's in his happy place, Harry," Hermione snapped. "I don't know about you, but I personally like having a calmed Ron than the annoying prat that walked around grunting like a troll."

The bespectacled boy sighed a 'fine' and turned back to the other Gryffindor. "How's life treating you, mate? You've been quite cheerful these past few days."

"_Pansy_," Was all Ron replied, grinning widely again.

"…That's just unnatural," Harry whispered to Hermione while pointing a finger at Ron as he closed his eyes. "I'm starting to believe he was placed under the Imperius Curse."

"Rubbish," Hermione giggled waving his comment away as she too watched Ron smile to himself.

She had a strange twinge in her chest as she eyed him. She was immensely happy that Pansy Parkinson managed to make a positive effect on Ron, but it also caused her somewhat of anger to know _she_ couldn't do it when she had tried for so long. (After all, she had known him the longest and it was only fair.)

"And even if she did," she cleared her throat, turning to Harry, "I can't blame her, or would do anything about it. I'm just excited he's moving forward with his life."

"Yeah, yeah." Harry nodded boringly, turning to his own book and finding that he was still on the first page. "You know, 'Mione, I always figured you and Ron would be the ones to end up together. Well, before they decided to pass the Marriage Law, that is."

"So did I," the witch responded without restrictions, making sure that Ron was off daydreaming not to hear a single word. "I always assumed we would just end up together because I was pushed to him. Seeing as you had Ginny, even though you weren't aware of her yet, and I was left on my own. Ron just seemed to...be there, you know?"

"You don't regret it, then?" Harry asked, keeping his eyes focused on the book. He didn't want to make Hermione uncomfortable with his staring. "The kiss you two shared during the final battle?"

"No, not at all." She shook her brown curls. "It was a momentary thing, Harry. There was a small fragment of me that thought we would die so I went for it. And after everything, after we survived and we began to restore our community, I realized he just wasn't perfect for me." Her eyes flashed quickly to Ron. "And I think he realized it as well." She smiled gently at the redhead who was humming and grinning, looking like a child who'd just received a bag of sweets.

"It's for the best then, eh?" Harry said, letting himself tear his eyes away from the book and joining Hermione's gaze towards their best friend. "Seeing in the condition he was left in after….after Fred's death, you would've lost patience with him. Maybe even grown to loath him and—"

"He wouldn't have cared," Hermione finished for him. "He wouldn't have cared if I stayed or not. He was just so full of rage, he would've pushed me away himself eventually. Parkinson came right on time for him before he lost himself completely, I reckon."

Harry nodded once more. "Do you think that the sorting was actually accurate, then? And that's why you weren't paired with him?"

"Do you think I belong with Malfoy, then?" Hermione let out another round of giggles which weren't amused like the others, but far more nervous.

"Do _you_ think you belong with Malfoy?" He turned the question around. (Harry was not going to answer that and face the wrath if he was wrong. He'd seen Hermione learning new spells in the library the past week. And after so much time with the Slytherin Ferret there would be a chance she'd learned some dark magic and he'd end up without a reproductive system.)

"I...erm... I'm not quite sure," she coughed, moving her gaze from him and back onto her book. Her cheeks were flushing a silent red. "We've been getting on quite well, more than anyone ever thought was imaginable. He can be decent and...charming when he wants to be...but it's _Malfoy_. I've to expect the worse, don't I? It's common sense."

"It's fear," Harry interjected.

"Fear?" Hermione still kept her eyes firmly focused on the pages of her book, ignoring the twitch her neck gave to look up. "Fear of what?"

"Of believing Draco Malfoy isn't the insolent, arrogant, pathetic, cruel bouncing Ferret," Harry replied smoothly, this time not bothering not to look at his friend. "You're afraid to get attached to the Slytherin, aren't you?"

There was a moment of silence between them.

"…Of course not," Hermione breathed. "I'm not afraid of anything. Especially not Draco Malfoy's sudden politeness."

Harry scoffed discretely. "Seems to me that he has changed."

"You don't know him, Harry."

"True," he agreed, pushing his glasses against his eyes. "But I don't like him either and I see the effort he puts on you every single time you two are together. I see the way he controls his patience whenever you insult him or push him away. I can see the hopefulness on his face when he waits outside of your lessons to escort you to the next. That's effort, 'Mione." He reached over for her hand, taking it slowly and making sure she wouldn't shove him off. "And Draco Malfoy seems to have unexpectedly developed it for you."

There was another round of silence until Hermione huffed. "…But I'm the Mudblood, Harry." Hermione's eyes were still firm. "I was always the Mudblood to him. How can that suddenly change from one moment to another—_when_ did it change?"

"When you became his fiancée, Hermione."

The witch inhaled deeply, still staring at the pages of her Herbology book. "It was out of force, though. Nothing would've changed between us if Kingsley hadn't come up with the Marriage Law."

"I don't think so." Her friend patted her hand reassuringly. "Times have changed, Hermione. People have stopped being the ignorant Purebloods that they once were...But I cannot tell you what to believe. Like you previously said, I don't know Malfoy and the decision of rewarding his efforts is up to you."

"..._Release_..." Ron murmured from the background.

"Sure he wasn't placed under the Unforgivable?" Harry and Hermione laughed loudly and startled Ron from his mantra.

"—Oi, you three!" A rock was sent flying towards the center of the Golden Trio. "Didn't you hear the bell?" A massive sea of students emerged from the outside classes, Ginny Weasley one of the many that exited Care of Magical Creatures with a slow Ravenclaw trailing behind her.

Harry smiled instantly, jumping up from the grass and heading towards his girlfriend. His emerald eyes shone so brightly that Hermione wondered if it was even possible for them to glow the way they were doing.

"Hello, love." He wrapped his arms on her waist and placed a tender kiss on her forehead.

"Hello." The rest of the Golden Trio waved at the two witches.

Peering from over Ginny's head as he still held her tightly in an embrace, Harry noticed the lingering Ravenclaw in the background. She recoiled to herself, not meeting anyone's eyes. "Luna," he called, "what's wrong?"

Pulling herself from her future husband, Ginny elbowed him. "She doesn't want to talk about it," she told the Golden Trio with their curious eyes. "She's been that way throughout all of our lesson. Neville and Hannah told me that she went to their chamber yesterday night, crying her eyes out." Her freckly face turned to worry. "Something must've happened with Dean."

Luna swallowed roughly beside them, her ears catching that forbidden name.

"Should we...?"

"No, we shouldn't." Ginny shook her fiery hair at Harry, knowing that he was about to ask if they should try and help her. "It's best for her to come to us rather than interrogate her against her will."

Before Luna Lovegood's sadness could cause a tension around them, a group of Slytherins came marching their way towards them from the greenhouses. "Afternoon Gryffindors!" They carried Herbology books and bright expressions.

"Waiting to see if you can get the answers to the Herbology exam, are you? Well, a galleon per answer!" Blaise said mockingly as he waved his test high in the air. "I expect I did much better than Longbottom will, so of course the price is pretty high."

"Impossible," Pansy snorted, tearing herself away from her group to head towards Ron. "Longbottom's the future Herbology teacher, mark my words. He'll be teaching our children about those ruddy plants in years to come."

Blaise rolled his eyes as he ignoring her and he spotted the blonde Ravenclaw. "Hello, Lovegood." He wrapped an arm around her shoulder. "How's it hanging, love?"

"Low," Luna squeaked in a tiny voice. "Very low."

"Those Nargles following you around?" Theodore Nott questioned in amusement, nudging Luna as he stood on her right side.

"Hippogriff attack you?" Gregory Goyle added as he took her Care of Magical Creatures book that was slipping from her tiny hands. He was surprisingly gentlemanly about it.

In her own little world as her brown eyes only found the ones of Draco Malfoy in the knit of Slytherins. " Hello," she mumbled as she turned a scarlet from the intensity of his eyes.

She watched as Draco tugged a smile on his glowing face and then begin to walk to her as he ignored the twenty-questions that his friends were having with the Lovegood girl. "Had good lessons so far?" Malfoy whispered to her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as he took her Herbology book.

"A bit," she answered back, a smile also spreading on her face.

_Smack! Smack!_

"Stop it, Zabini!"

"Oi! I was asking a question!" Blaise shouted, wincing from the two slaps Ginny's hand sent his way.

"What kind of question is asking her if Dean poked her roughly with his wand?" She sent another slap towards him.

"It would explain the flinching!"

"…Thickhead," Hermione and Draco said together, their hands clasping and their fingers intertwined.

Another group consisting of Gryffindors and one Hufflepuff came walking towards the Golden Trio and the Slytherins.

"Ron, you forgot this in Potions!" A book was thrown at the redhead kissing Pansy Parkinson; smacking him directly on the side of his face. "Forget it next time and I'll burn it. I'm not your bloody keeper, Ronald Weasley. Just because we're paired—" Lavender Brown stopped in her complaint, her eyes landing on the blonde witch.

Having had found the same person Lavender had, Dean stepped from behind his friends. "Luna?"

"Careful, Pansy," Luna Lovegood came out of her miserable expression with an intense glare. Something so unnatural that Ginny and Neville, her two closest friends, raised their eyebrows highly. "Better keep Ron close to you or Lavender might think he's available."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "Luna," she said in a shocked voice.

"Look, I am sorry," Lavender spoke, cowering away from the furious look on the petite witch's face. "Dean can explain everything—_I_ can explain everything if you gave me the chance. It's not what it seems, I swear it. I'm so sorry."

"Sorry isn't good enough." Luna's glare was interrupted by angry tears. "You can stay over regularly now, I'm never going back." She pushed her way out of Blaise's hold and stomped her away from the sight of the two guilty Gryffindors.

Letting go of Hannah Abbot's hand instantly, Neville reached and grasped both Lavender and Dean's arms. "Don't even think about it," he snapped at both of them. "We better head to the greenhouses now." And with some effort, he pulled them towards the direction of the greenhouses without retorts.

"Did you see that?" Ginny still had her eyes open wide and surprise written on her freckly face.

"I know," Ron said, nodding along. "Lavender does have great throwing skills." He picked up his Potions book.

"…I wonder what happened." Hermione, pulling Malfoy along, took one step forward to try and get a view of Neville struggling with Dean Thomas.

"Clear as day, isn't it?" Pansy said, rubbing Ron's face. "Why Lovegood's upset?"

None of the Gryffindors said anything, instead they cocked their eyebrows at the Slytherins.

"Thomas cheated," the Slytherins said all at once, smirking at the confused faces of the Gryffindors.

Ron gave a loud gasp as Harry and Ginny both scowled.

"He did not cheat."

"Oh, please," Blaise scoffed. "We know what we're talking about here, Miss Soon-to-be Potter," he retorted to the defensive best friend of the Ravenclaw. "That bloke did poke his wand around and it wasn't with Lovegood. What a shame, if I may same. Lovegood's pure and Brown's been...used."

Ginny glared again as she was ready to smack him once more but he took a step away. He laughed, shaking his head at her and motioned Nott and Goyle forward. The three began to walk away as he said, "She acts like we aren't Slytherins. We're _known_ to be deceivers."

Ginny huffed, crossing her arms as she heard Zabini perfectly well. "Do you think…" She trailed off, looking at her fiancée.

"He better have not." Harry frowned, not wanting to believe it as he began steering Ginny away.

"Well," Ron cleared his throat, placing his arm around Pansy's waist, "we better get a move on too." Both of them waved at their respective friends and followed Harry's steps.

Hermione knitted her eyebrows together.

"Don't look so upset, Granger," Draco said, noticing her conflicted expression. "You honestly can't expect everyone to be decent. I don't mean to justify what Thomas did because, well, it is Lovegood and she wouldn't hurt a fly, but sometimes we do things without thinking them. It's a common mistake among the human race."

"I don't believe Dean could be capable of such things...But if he did...How can someone hurt the person they love? An impulse can't justify the pain you cause the other person." She looked up to the Slytherin, her eyes determined and pensive. "And it's certainly something you can't forgive. A mistake is a mistake, Malfoy, I believe that, but when you know that you're causing the hurt, even if the other person isn't aware of it yet...something should spark up inside of you."

"…I would never hurt you," Draco interjected softly, moving to face the brunette as he gave her hand a squeeze and let his eyes pierce right through hers once more. He allowed himself to gaze at her entire being, to look profoundly inside of her eyes to try and find her soul. To try to discover it and find how extraordinary it actually was.

"…Not like that, ever."

Hermione felt her heart give a loud thump. "I…No one is ever certain of that, Malfoy. A promise like that can't be made. And besides—"

"Besides, Granger, you are mine." He placed his fingertips on her lips, silencing her. "And what I claim as mine, I protect it like the most valuable treasure."

Her breath seemed to thicken as it made its way out from her mouth.

Was he being true, she couldn't possibly know. But what she did know was that Harry was right. It had been almost three weeks since the pass of the Marriage Law and she _was_ aware of his efforts. She saw the way Malfoy tried his hardest to get her to cooperate, to make everything so much simpler than it was. She wasn't sure if she could spend the rest of her life with him, but she had to try. She didn't even know if she felt something for him, but she couldn't deny that blush that seemed to be attached on her face when he was around.

"….I don't believe you, Malfoy," she whispered, tearing herself from her thoughts. " I'm not an idiot, but…" Hermione placed her slender finger on his lips, keeping him from protesting. "I'm willing to try this. To actually try this without kicking or complaining."

"You won't regret it," he murmured from behind her finger.

"Maybe, but the Nargles haven't done their magic yet."

He raised his eyebrow, a little distracted. "What are Nargles?"

"I," Hermione removed her finger from his lips, "have no idea. But remind me to thank Luna for her teachings."

And she closed the distance between them, moving her free hand behind his neck and pulled herself closer to him in a second.

And it was in that one swift and courageous movement that Hermione placed her lips on Malfoy's. She couldn't help herself to smile at the surprise twitch his lips gave, but she quickly forgot about it as she started embracing the sweet, soft, feel of them.

Her breath quickened heavily along with the rate of her heart and the rushing blood flowing throughout her entire body, but what she was most aware of was Draco's touch. His fingers snaked into her curls and the tight press on the small of her back.

Their first kiss was one that seemed to be bottled up with years worth of emotions. So strong, passionate, intense, rough, sweet, domineering, struggled, forced, soft, and determined.

Hermione pulled away in self-control as she heard the Slytherin's heavy breathing. She smirked at him, one that was worthy of his approval and admiration; one that could have given him a run for his galleons.

"Herbology. I'm late." She flicked his cheek with her fingers and took her book from him.

"What the hell?" Malfoy mumbled to himself, turning rapidly to see the Gryffindor Princess walking casually to the greenhouses ahead. "…_What was that_?" He asked, feeling his heart pound so loudly in his chest it made competition with the blush forming on his face.

Oh, yes. He was totally fucked now.


	14. In Which Malfoy takes Charge

**Chapter Fourteen  
**

"Settle down, settle down, class." Professor Slughorn tapped his wand impatiently on the glass of his desk. "We've got a few exams to revise before we are let out, alright." He pulled out a stack of parchment from the right drawer of his desk. "Now, I shall read you what your mark was out loud and hopefully those who've failed miserably will feel ashamed of their mark and will be more keen to study before my test."**  
**

"A galleon there is a giant 'T' marked on your exam, Weasley," Seamus laughed as he rubbed off the marks of smoke on his face that appeared there once he'd failed to add a few strands of Dean Thomas' hair into his Polyjuice Potion — which of course exploded to flames. (It was still a mystery of how Seamus didn't spontaneously burst into flames when he would walk down a corridor.)

"You know what, Finnegan," Ron leaned forward on his desk, looking at his fellow Gryffindor with a serious expression, "I'll take your wager. I did horrible on that bloody exam." Ron slapped down a couple of sickles on the tabletop, grinning like there was no care in the world. "What kind professor hands out an exam without giving notice, anyway? That exam was waiting to be failed."

Looking up from her school things that she was organizing, Hermione frowned at the redhead with all the disapproval she could muster. "Slughorn told us about the exam three days ago, Ronald," she huffed at him, shoving her parchment of notes into her schoolbag.

"He did not," Ron retorted as he spun a sickle with his fingers.

"Yes he did," Hermione snapped. "You were too busy trying to sneakily pass Parkinson letters as the professor was teaching that you didn't hear a word."

"Well you could've reminded me, 'Mione," Ron said, smirking lightly as Seamus and Harry whispered awes at him mockingly.

The brunette kept her frown, deepening it with annoyance. "_I did_ — You were too occupied stuffing your face you didn't hear a word I said! I even made a study-chart for you!"

"Okay, Hermione, new rule," Ron slapped the sickle on the table, looking at his best friend in a calm way, "remind me of things when I'm not eating or trying to get Pansy's attention. You just won't get a reaction out of me if you do."

Hermione stared at him with an irritated look. "Imagine the rate your brain is turning into mush when you're talking to Parkinson and eating at the same time. It's a wonder to nature that you can actually remember to wear pants everyday."

"Pans makes sure I'm nice and tidy before we leave our chamber." Ron smiled in an odd way that made Hermione feel a bit sickened. He looked bewitched or like child beaming like he'd just made a finger-painting worthy of going on a muggle fridge.

"_Tidy_?" Harry repeated, staring at him the same way Hermione and Seamus were. "Pans? Oh, mate, you pathetic prat. You're officially head over heels for Pansy Parkinson."

"And that's daunting," the brunette added, nodding her head in agreement. "Considering that you don't even know her that well."

"I know her plenty, 'Mione," Ron replied defensively. "Why do you think I've suddenly snapped out of my funk? It certainly isn't because I woke up and decided today was going to be a better day, I assure you that.

"It was because of _her_. Because, believe it or not, I have gotten to know her truly. Who she really is without all the wild ruddy rumors that go around about her in this school. I've gotten to know Pans and I like who she is." He crossed his arms over his chest in a very furious manner and turned to frown at Professor Slughorn.

Harry and Hermione exchanged a silent look, Seamus in the background torn between laughing or moving from the awkward tension among the Golden Trio.

"Lavender Brown, '_A'_," the Potions Master's voice rung among the classroom before Hermione or Harry had a chance to make amends with Ron as he placed the Gryffindor's parchment on the back of the pile of exams. "Padama Patil, _'E'_. Seamus Finnegan, _'P'_." He sent Seamus a pitying gaze and placed his paper on the back of the stack.

"….Come off it, Ron," Harry rolled his eyes, risking to whisper at his best friend while the teacher kept speaking. "You know we're just teasing you. We're glad Parkinson actually turned out to be an okay witch. We wouldn't want our mate with the evil Slytherin wench." The Boy Who Lived gave Ron an exaggerated grin.

"You're lucky my sister is in love with you," Ron grunted in return, scowling at the redness from Hermione's cheeks as she contained her laughter from Harry's ridiculous expression, "or I would have killed you for insulting my woman."

Harry lifted his palms out before him and giving a surrendering pose.

"Harry, m'boy, you have an _'E'_ for the exam. Congratulations." Professor Slughorn smiled warmly at the famous boy. "Same goes for you, Mister Weasley. Splendid work on describing the mixture of the Drought of Living Death."

"_What_?" Hermione's jaw dropped. "How did you achieve an Exceeds Expectations? You didn't even study!"

"It's all in here, 'Mione." Ron tapped the side of his forehead with his finger, grinning proudly even as Seamus took his sickles from the table.

"This isn't a galleon, Weasley, but I'll let it slide." The Irish Gryffindor pocketed the money.

Clearing his throat to grab attention again, Professor Slughorn said, "and, Miss Granger, like always an 'O' for your brilliant answers."

Hermione flushed red as the Professor lifted her paper to display the red 'Outstanding' scribbled on the parchment of her exam.

"—Professor can we come in now? Peeves is outside and he's gotten a cauldron of Bubble Juice." Pansy Parkinson poked her head inside the Potions classroom, her pale face looking extremely annoyed. "He's threatening to soak us, and unless the Headmistress would like a scene of me killing an already dead poltergeist.…." The Slytherin witch trailed off, motioning with her palm what would happen if her anger got out of control.

"Of course, of course." Professor Slughorn motioned her in. "Tell your classmates it's alright to enter, my dear."

As the class turned from the door to stare at Ron, Seamus took the opportunity to nudge his fellow Gryffindor with a giant leer on his face. "It's Pansy!" He shouted and Ron blushed. "Whooooo!"

"Shut up." Ron blushed even more and sat up straighter on his stool as Pansy Parkinson came walking elegantly towards him, the other students trailing in after her.

A much more graceful grin than Ron's was on her face as she placed a kiss on his cheek; turning quickly away from him to push Seamus from his stool next to her fiancée without an 'excuse me'.

"Granger." Hermione held on the edge of her table as a small whisper graced her ear; catching her off guard as she focused on Ron and his round of giggles. She felt the shiver that went up her spine that the voice caused, one that ignited the goosebumps on her arm.

She swallowed roughly trying to find her composure as her skin still tingled. "Malfoy," she replied to the blonde Slytherin's greeting after a moment. She collected her thoughts quickly as she watched him take a stool from another table and drag it to sit beside her. He laced his cold fingers with hers, but his eyes and attention remained on the main desk ahead.

"Had a good day?"

"I should say," Draco responded to the girl's question. He was going to add a little more detail until Ginny Weasley passed him, slapping his arm playfully like they were the best of friends as she headed her way towards Harry.

Grimacing at that, he pushed it away after a second and turned back to the girl beside him. "And yours?"

"Now, now, children," the professor began before Hermione had a chance to answer. "Seeing as today's the last day before departing to our homes for the Christmas holidays and there's no Family Consumer lesson, Professor Sprout asked me to remind you that the deadline for the dates of the weddings should be presented to the Headmistress in four days."

A murmur broke out amongst the Sixth and Seventh Years.

"What if we choose not to?" Startled by the chiming voice that asked the question, the Potions room became deadly quiet. Enough silence filled the classroom that the brewing bubbles of cauldrons away were heard.

"Well, Miss Lovegood—" Also surprised by the angry look spread on the Ravenclaw's face, the professor cleared his throat uneasily again. He sent a look between her and Dean Thomas — who sat four tables away from her like he was in restriction. "Like the Headmistress and even the Minister have said in previous occasions, the Marriage Law is not up for discussion. It is required out of you and so you will obliged to it." He sent looks of worry to the other students as Luna's glare became more dominate. "On the fifth day of your holiday, if you fail to summit a date, the Ministry will owl you with the date they've chosen for you."

Silence pounded again and the popping bubbles of the cauldrons became like breathing in the background for a few moments as no one said anything; everyone remained looking shockingly at the blonde witch.

Taking a deep breath, Luna said, "So you're telling me that regardless of certain…mishaps I'm still stuck with Thomas?" Her pale complexion was furious, more furious than anyone could've ever imagined she could conjure up.

At her clear fit she was about to go into, Neville reached over to her; taking her hand. But as he attempted to squeeze it, showing his support and that he loved her, Luna shoved it away.

The classroom broke out into excited murmurs, looking back in forth between Luna and Dean due to the clear understanding that something had gone terribly wrong.

Noticing the commotion and the tension in the air as well, the professor sighed defeated as he answered her question. "I'm sure you know the answer to that, Miss Lovegood."

Luna hopped off her stool. "Apparently so, Professor. " She picked up her schoolbag, aware that all eyes were on her, and she tossed the strap over her head. "I'm doomed to that Gryffindor forever because of your law." She glared deeper at the Potions Master and then stormed out of his classroom without looking back.

"…And I thought you were a piece of work." Seamus turned to Lavender Brown, who had joined him at the table, and gave her a smile of relief. "I'm now officially glad I'm paired off with you, Lav. Poor Dean. That girl's a whole new level of mental."

Hermione watched as Lavender swallowed roughly, her cheeks turning a pink color and a twisted expression on her face. "Yeah. I wonder what got into Loony Lovegood." She knitted her eyebrows together and looked at the tabletop; ignoring the arm Seamus had draped over her shoulder.

"Hoping that you have an excellent holiday, class is dismissed," Professor Slughorn said rather hesitantly, still looking after Luna's long gone trail with deep confusion.

Jumping off his stool faster than what he could catch a snitch, Harry headed towards Dean. "What did you do, mate?" He bombarded his fellow Gryffindor with the obvious question, not even trying to be modest about it. "What could you, the greatest bloke there is, possibly do to Luna?"

Dean continued to sit on his place, ignoring as a small group formed around him; waiting for him to answer Harry's question.

"Potter's dense if he thinks Thomas will tell him of his cowardly act," Draco whispered to Hermione as he helped her off the stool as he didn't particularly care to stay around for the scene most Gryffindors were about to have with their house-mate. "The last thing Thomas will do is tell _Potter_ that he betrayed Lovegood."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at the blonde Slytherin. "You don't know that. Maybe Harry can—"

"No, he cannot help, Granger." Draco rolled his silvery eyes at her. And with their hands still clasped together he directed her towards the door. "From what I've observed for the previous years, and from what I've heard and made fun of before, Potter has a deep sense of affection for the Lovegood girl, right? He treats her like a sister, alike you, and cares deeply about her."

The brunette gave a nod, not saying anything so he'd continue.

"You can't possibly think Potter would help a bloke who hurt his sister, right? Especially since he's quite the sentimental git himself, always going on about the importance of loyalty and all that?"

Hermione raised her eyebrow at Malfoy. "For someone who has hated Harry for so long you sure know how he thinks, Malfoy." She smirked lightly at the Slytherin as he stopped from her sudden remark; forgetting about where he was going with the subject.

"It's not hard to guess, Granger," he said in firm voice. "If that Weasel of yours were to hurt Pansy in such way, and I knew that it scarred her deeply, I'd make sure the Weasel King would die a most painful death without a thought." (Or even if he didn't hurt Pansy, who cares. He'd still take a go at the redheaded sidekick, but the precious bookworm need not know that.)

Hermione tried not to scoff as she adjusted her schoolbag on her shoulder. "Since when do you care about other people, Malfoy?"

"I care about you." Sure enough, that wiped the smirk right of the Muggle-Born's face; much to Draco's satisfaction. He hated it when the Gryffindor had an accusing hold over him and was able to put a smirk — _his_ smirk — on her pale face like she owned it.

Hermione cleared her throat, trying not to let her surprise show. "We should go pack, the train leaves in a couple of hours and we have nothing in our trunks."

"Mine has been packed." He let go of her hand and slowly made it move to her waist. "I expect you're going home for the holidays?" He asked in a low voice, gazing deep into her hazel eyes.

Knitting her eyebrows in confusion of why her heart gave a loud thump, she had to force herself not to stutter. "No actually. Mrs. Weasley has invited Harry and I over and I accepted seeing as my parents will travel to Australia for their anniversary. Not to mention I couldn't pass the opportunity of finding out who George was paired off with."

Swallowing her comment of the Weasleys and the adoration that burned in her eyes for them, the damn blood traitors, he gave her waist a tight press. "You will miss me, right?"

"As long as you miss me," sarcasm dripped from the Gryffindor's voice.

The Slytherin chuckled. "Blaise is right, you know?" He moved his left palm towards the softness of her cheek; smirking at her with some pride. "You have been spending quite a lot of time with me."

"…Imagine what a year by your side will do to me," Hermione muttered as she found herself leaning into his palm. Not feeling the coldness that always invaded his body.

Staring so deeply at her, Draco found that there was a sudden spark in her brown eyes that made her face lit up. It was something quite magical that he found himself prolonging the stare. He was captivated by the sight, by the essence of her purity. He never imagined that he would ever find someone who just glistened with innocence the way she did. Sure, he had heard stories and at times experienced her wrath, but he never imagined that she was this wholesome.

Without saying a word he leaned forward and made his forehead connect with hers, just for the sake of it. He remained staring into her eyes that he paid no attention to his uneven breathing.

They have been an official couple for about a week now and he'd only kissed her once, and that was her doing, now he wanted his turn. It was only fair, wasn't it? So he started caressing her nose gently with his, he closed his eyes and blurred her out of his vision and pressed his lips to hers.

At first his lips just touched hers. He let them stay still for a moment, trying to let the softness of them play with his conscience of what he was going to do to her. He tried to let the smoothness give him some remorse, but alike the coward he heard people say he was, he began to sync his lips with hers and forgot about her innocence. Moving his mouth in a firm but caressing way, he brought the hand that rested on her cheek to the back of her neck and pushed her closer. He kept kissing her with a passion that was not like him, but was filled with someone who had a heart.

But Malfoys had no heart, so he had to tear himself away; not wanting her to see that feeling of something.

"…Hope you have a great holiday with the Weasleys, Granger," he whispered with ease over her lips, pulling away from the feel of them with a step back.

Before she could say anything to Malfoy, she tumbled back on her feet as he made his way down the corridor. Her back collided with the marbled wall and she heaved for some air.

"Breathless much, Hermione?" A redhead danced her way silently from inside of the Potions classroom. "I always am whenever Harry looks at me that way or when he snogs me." Ginny crossed her arms over her chest, staring at the retreating figure of the Slytherin alike her friend.

"I am not breathless, Gin." Hermione steadied herself as soon as the oxygen in her body started flowing naturally again. "I just haven't gotten used to having Malfoy..._kiss_ me. It's weird, that's all."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Oh, yeah, because having your boyfriend kiss you is such an abnormality."

"I've been kissed twice in my life, Ginny," Hermione said with a hint of irritation. "And if you recall by what I told you about them, kissing Malfoy is different. He's the enemy."

"He's your fiancée," Ginny retorted, shaking her long fiery hair at Hermione. "You've got to stop thinking in back of that brilliant head of yours that this is the strangest thing you will ever have to do. Because, 'Mione, you've got to face it, this is reality. And kissing Malfoy will be as well for the rest of your life."

Hermione frowned, looking disturbed by that.

Ginny shrugged. "It's true and you know it. Embrace it."

"I feel so much better," the brunette grunted. "_But_," she added quickly before Ginny could say something heatedly, "at least we are civil to one another and agreed to make the best of this. And that's better than anything, right?"

"Of course." Ginny smiled widely, latching her arm on to Hermione's. "Now, aren't you excited about finding out who George got? I can't wait to tease him over it. Hopefully he got someone like mum, that'll be torture!"

Hermione laughed as Ginny dragged her the opposite way in which he fiancée left. "I can't believe he hasn't wanted to tell anyone about it. Ron said not even your parents knew. Could it be that bad that he's resorted to mystery?"

"She's probably some Veela and he has become too entranced to think clearly, just like Bill did with Fleur." Ginny laughed loudly as she thought of her new sister-in-law. "I wonder if his wedding date will clash with mine. I'm having no witch interfere with my day so that can be a problem."

"I'm sure it won't."

Ginny nodded, chin up. "It better not. I'm celebrating the new year as a married woman," she said almighty, daring the forces of the universe to go against her. "Have you and Malfoy chosen a date?"

"_Damnit_!" Hermione stopped, turning her wide eyes to the redhead. "That's what I forgot!"

**X**

"Relax, will you?" Ron huffed as he reached for another mince pie. "You're getting me all jumpy."

"Shut up, Ronald."

"And there you go," Ron sighed, chewing on his pie. "Women."

"Mum, wasn't George supposed to be here twenty minutes ago?" Ginny asked from her seat on the couch next to Harry, rolling her eyes secretively at her mother's boiling hostility from there.

"And twenty minutes ago, Ginevra, is when you should've gone up and changed into proper attire," Mrs. Weasley hissed, placing two more plates on the center table of the living room.

She had been up all morning, and probably the night before when the Golden Trio arrived, cleaning the Burrow spotless over and over. She was so excited and anxious to meet the woman that was helping her son out of his mourning, who was giving his blue eyes some light once again that her nerves were on edge. Because any person who had the power to give George Weasley's smile back to his face was worth stressing over; even if it drove her family insane.

"You've been in your nightgown all afternoon, didn't I teach you better than that?"

"I never had to dress properly for any of my brothers girlfriends," Ginny said casually in response to her mother, checking her nails as she ignored that Harry looked at her nightgown and sighed. (He knew defeat when he saw it, and Mrs. Weasley was not going to convince Ginny to put on her evening robes any time soon.) "Why should I start now?"

"Because George's fiancée isn't just any fiancée, Ginny." Her mother slapped a hand to stop Ron's twitching fingers from moving to another mince pie. "This is the woman who has been helping him out of his depression. She has given your brother some will to continue on. And that, Ginevra, is worth so much more than your casualness and indifference to everybody else."

Ginny swallowed a lump forming inside of her throat. "Playing the guilt card, are you, woman?" She said as she stood from the couch. "Fine, I shall go and change. But," she raised a finger at her mother as tears welled up in her sockets, "know that I do it for George."

"...For George," Mrs. Weasley murmured, turning away from her daughter.

And not wanting the emotions in the air to get out of hand, Ron snaked his hand passed his mother's slap and grabbed another pie as he said, "Mummy, you should really meet my Pans. I think you will like her as well. She did wondrous things for me."

"Is that so?" The elder witch snuck a look at her son's best friends. "Is Pansy Parkinson worth to have my little Ronnie?"

Looking at each other for a moment in consultation, Harry and Hermione nodded their heads at her in unison.

"Well then, Ron, once you agree upon the date of your wedding and decide to introduce your family to her, I promise I will make a tray of mince pies dedicated to you, sweetheart."

"Well get to baking, woman, because we've decided on a date!" Ron clapped cheerfully after he shoved the remaining of his sixth miniature pie into his mouth.

"What?" Harry and Hermione gawked at their best friend. "When the bloody hell did you decide this?" Their voices mixed together.

"Three days ago," Ron stated simply, rubbing his stomach. "We decided that April is the month in which we wed."

"She even taught you grammar and you didn't tell us?" Hermione proclaimed shockingly. "I feel betrayed!"

"Come off it," Ron snorted. "I've been too focused on Pans that I forgot to mention it, that's all. No need to get your knickers into a twist. Besides, you'll be a part of the wedding, won't you?" He looked up at them expectantly. "Best men?"

"I will hex you for that comment, Ronald." Hermione glared from her seat on Mister Weasley's armchair. "No matter how sweet of you it is to have Harry and I in your wedding."

"—He's home!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked loudly, interrupting the moment between the three best friends, as she looked up at her unique clock.

All eyes looked at the hand that had George's face engraved on that now pointed to the hour that read 'Home'.

Feeling a bit guilty that the famous Weasley clock only held eight hands instead of the nine that had always been there since he first laid eyes on it many years ago, Harry got up from his seat with something pressing down at his chest. "I'll open the door, Mrs. Weasley, so you can finish restoring the pies Ron ate."

"No, dear." Mrs. Weasley shook her head, knowing exactly the feeling swimming in his emerald eyes that he was trying to hide. She wouldn't have Harry feeling guilty about the death of George's twin anymore, it wasn't his fault.

She cleared her throat at the thought of her late son, and looked at Harry lovingly. "You deserve to be here, Harry, you're family of course."

"Speaking of family, why isn't dad here? Bill, Fleur, and Percy for that matter?" Ron spoke up, also noticing Harry's saddened eyes; interjecting before his friend felt awkward by the tears glistening his mother's eyes.

"Arthur and Percy are at the Ministry, they will meet George's fiancée after, and Bill and Fleur went to France for the Christmas holidays so they'll have to wait a little longer," his mother explained quickly as voices were heard outside of the window.

_ Knock. Knock. _

"Oh!" Mrs. Weasley gasped. "What should I do?"

Ron raised his eyebrow at his mother and grunted. "You do this, mum—" Ron stood from his seat and walked towards the edge of the living room. "_Come in!_" He shouted, and turned back to his mother. "See? Simple."

"I'm all for the dramatics today and no one had the decency to open the ruddy door?" A familiar tall redhead man entered the Burrow's front door, grinning widely at the people in front of him. "I'm staying in my flat from now on, you people are terribly bad mannered."

"George!" Mrs. Weasley screamed happily.

"Mummy," the redhead man smiled and took a few steps towards the elderly witch. "It smells fantastic, but I told you not to outdo yourself. You're going to stuff us before Christmas rolls around."

"Georgie! Georgie!" In a blur, Mrs. Weasley closed the few steps that separated her from her son and she embraced him tightly; crying into his chest as he patted her back gently. "I haven't seen you in the longest, my darling!"

"Mum, I saw you three weeks ago," George attempted to laugh, but found it a bit difficult as he looked around his childhood home.

He had left the Burrow for many reasons, and all of them consisted of the memories that were painted on every corner of his family home. He could see the flashbacks of a pair of wicked, humorous, and evil twins racing through the steps as one of their siblings chased after them; threatening them for their latest prank. Their laughter seemed to bounce off the walls like it was happening at that very moment and penetrate George's only ear and broke his heart.

"…Mum overreacts, George, you know that," Ron muttered as he made his way awkwardly towards his brother and mother. "You should've seen the dance she made when she saw us get off the train."

"Well, Ronniekins, you get taller everyday, lad!" George replied to his younger brother, reaching out an arm to him. "Keep it up and we'll have trouble convincing the Ministry you aren't an unregistered half-giant!"

Ron smiled at that, not looking at George's face for too long, and hugged his brother limply. Just letting the time tick as he held on to his brother: a connection to the one he lost.

"Well you two, don't I get a hello?" George asked as he pushed his mother and brother from him. "Or are you attempting to blend in with the wall while this sodding family moment ends?"

"Oh, George. Always the prat," Hermione laughed as she made his way to him.

"There is one in every family, Hermione." George patted her back like he did to his mother; not fully heartedly but with some affection.

Hermione bit her tongue before she could remind him there used to be two of them. "You look great!" She said instead, smiling at the redhead sincerely.

"And you're still alive!" George replied teasingly as Harry came up to him and embraced him slightly. George had always been fond of Harry's lack of emotional display that he made sure to give him a rougher pat; just to mess with him. "I heard from Ron you're engaged to Malfoy. That must have sucked Merlin's saggy ba—"

"_George_!" Two voices seem to hiss out the name, but one hand had smacked him on the back of the head.

Entering silently through the kitchen's door, all eyes had moved from George Weasley and onto a tall figure standing next to him. Dark brown eyes staring at them in return with a glow and a half-smile as they all registered her appearance.

"Mum this is all I found! If that ruddy witch doesn't—" Ginny came stomping down the staircase, pulling on a dress that her Auntie Muriel sent her for her last birthday with disgust.

The room was dead quiet, waiting for Ginny for the lack of not knowing what to do next from the new woman in the house.

"Are you serious?" The youngest Weasley snapped, coming to a stop by the couch she was previously sitting on as she gaped at them. "I wore this hideous dress for her?" She pointed a white finger at the two figures standing by the door.

Everyone continued to say nothing, the scene suddenly awkward. But Ginny found no trace of it as she started pulling her dress over her head, her nightgown underneath it.

"Bloody hell, Angelina. I could've just kept my nightgown on if you would have told us it was you!"


	15. Of Jingle Bells and Sleepovers

**Chapter Fifteen**

"Jingle Bells—"

"Shut up."

"Jingle Bells—"

"Shut up."

"Jingle all the way! Oh, what fun it is to ride on a one horse open-sleigh!"

"Ginny!" Hermione bolted up from her cot inside of the redhead's room and threw a pillow at her; an intense glare on her face. "_Shut up_!"

Ginny Weasley smiled widely at her friend, laughing mockingly, and danced her way towards her; spinning dramatically every third step. "Happy Christmas, Hermione," she said cheerfully, hopping down on the foot of Hermione's cot.

Inhaling deeply twice, the brunette erased the frown and anger away from her face as fast as it had come. "Happy Christmas, Gin." She leaned forward and the two girls embraced in a tight hug. "Why are you up so early, anyway?" Hermione asked as she rubbed her eyelids.

"Well, I heard mum arguing downstairs with dad about Angelina Johnson," Ginny sighed. "Mum has met Angelina before and she liked her very much, but that was back then when Fred...you know..." Ginny cleared her throat, not wanting to get into the subject of her dead brother. "Mum just thinks that Angelina's trying to hold on to a piece of Fred with George. She reckons maybe Angelina is not exactly in love with George and will end up hurting him."

"That's horrible," Hermione said, thinking back to Angelina Johnson's glowing face whenever she looked at George Weasley. She had noticed that shine that radiated off both of them, and although she was no expert on the matters of the heart, Hermione could see the spark between them. It was something extremely pure and powerful, and she doubted that it was due to a single memory.

"I understand Mrs. Weasley's concern, but George is no fool either, Gin. You know that if he thought the same way as your mother he would've never agreed to his marriage so easily. I'm sure Kingsley would have obliged him in that."

The redhead nodded slowly, breathing in calmly. "Anyway," she wiped off the sad look on her pale face and bounced a bit on the cot, "that's not technically the reason I awoke, 'Mione. It was also due to a bloody owl pecking on my window for an hour."

"McGonagall or Kingsley?"

"Neither." Ginny grinned, reaching into her shirt. "It was a rather refined owl, Hermione." She pulled out a small piece of parchment from where it was tucked underneath one of her bra-straps.

"…Malfoy?" The brunette whispered.

"There you go, 'Mione. You truly are the Brightest Witch of the Age!" Ginny laughed teasingly, tossing her the square of parchment. "Read it out loud, if you're kind."

With cold shaking fingers, Hermione pulled on the melted wax of the Malfoy crest holding the parchment together and then unfolded it to reveal its content.

_Miss Granger,_

_I know you mentioned that you will be spending the Holidays with the Weasleys, but I ask if you would please join me at my manor for some time this afternoon. I will not keep you from your friends for so long, I would just like spending a few hours with my fiancée. _

_And also, my parents will like to meet you as soon as possible, properly. Don't begin to fret, my Gryffindor, it won't be anything formal or complicated, just simple introductions. Proper introductions. _

_I expect to see you._

_Merry Christmas,_  
_D.M._

"Well that's short and down to the point," Hermione huffed, folding the parchment back to its original square. "And he wants me to meet his parents? He can't be serious. I'm positive both of them still hate me."

"Oh, Hermione, I hate when you get stubborn." Ginny stood from the cot, pulling Hermione's blankets away from her body. "There never is a point of your fussing because in the end you always give in."

"I do not."

The redhead rolled her eyes and then gave her friend a snort. "I'll tell mum you are going to the Malfoys soon." Ginny opened the door to her room as Hermione began to complain.

"No, Gin, don't—"

But the redhead ignored her and continued out. "Dashing through the snow! In a one horse open-sleigh! Over the fields we go! "

"Ginny!"

"Laughing all the way! Ha!Ha!Ha!Ha!" And the door closed.

**X**

"Happy Christmas, Drake!"

_Wham._

"What is this?" Draco Malfoy lifted off the package from the floor that had slammed into his chest and bounced to his carpet.

"A gift, thickhead." Blaise Zabini took a seat on one of the armchairs in the Malfoys sitting room and made himself comfortable. "I would assume that the shiny wrappings would've tipped you off."

"I don't usually get assaulted by my gifts, Blaise." Draco glared at his friend, spinning the package in his hands as he inspected it. (With Blaise you never knew, and Draco knew for a fact to never just trust that the contents were actually a gift.)

"That's because none of them are from me, mate." Blaise took a Chocolate Frog from the pile on the center table. "Pansy sent you these? She sent me a supply to last a lifetime too, that bloody unoriginal witch." He threw back the chocolate with a disgusted face. "Nonetheless, I scuffed down half of them before my arrival."

Draco tore the silver wrappings off the package as he ignored him. And a second later, he frowned a bit when he saw that Blaise had given him a book. " _The Evolution of Muggles._" Malfoy gazed up with hard gray eyes at his friend as he read the name of the book aloud. "Had a real laugh when you nicked it from the Muggle Studies professor, Blaise?"

The dark-skinned teenager snorted. "I'm hurt that you would think so low of me, Draco. I would never steal anything. I am too sophisticated for that, I can assure you." Blaise tossed his legs over the armrest of the chair and laid perfectly on it. Letting the armchair cradle him as he turned his green eyes to his friend.

"I had a laugh when I bought it just for you."

"And why," Draco kept holding on to the book tightly, hoping that with some extra strength he could rip it in half, "did you assume, Zabini, that I would fancy reading this?"

Blaise shook his head in annoyance; like he expected his friend to already know why he bought him such book. "Well, mate, you are marrying a Muggle-Born and that means that your in-laws will all be muggles, right? So, technically, you're going to have to socialize with them at a point without involving magic. I did it for your benefit."

"Who knew Slytherins were the best of mates?" Giving up, Draco tossed the book to the center table, making it land on top of his other gifts. "Why are you even here?"

"Well, certainly not to wish you a jolly Christmas, mate," Blaise said casually swinging his legs animatedly over the armrest. "I've come to see if you've put a stop to your devious plans."

Leaning lazily on his armchair, the blonde Slytherin raised his brow a centimeter as he looked blankly at the other boy. "No, Zabini. I still am sending Weasley and his family a pot of gold from a Leprechaun."

"You know what I'm talking about, Drake," Blaise interjected, obviously not humored by his friend's joke. "Are you still thinking about fooling Hermione into falling in love with you or not?"

"I'm not thinking about it, Blaise," Draco breathed, pulling on the sleeves of his black blazer, "I'm already doing it."

Blaise swung his legs abruptly from the armrest and stomped them down on the carpeted floor. "Are you bloody serious?" Growing more infuriated as his friend nodded indifferently, Blaise contracted his palm into a hard fist. "You're wasting your time, you know? You will end up doing the right thing in the end, Draco, so I see no point of wasting your time for so long when you can do something beneficial with it — _since it will not work_."

"Been talking to Trelawney, have you, Blaise?"

Ignoring him, the dark boy kept his glare upon his best friend. "You can fool yourself, Malfoy, but I've been noticing you for the past week. Ever since you and Hermione began holding hands, snogging, and acting like a couple, you've been different. You still are as cold and serious as ever, but there's something else there. And believe me, that confusion bubbling inside of you is noticeable by others even as you try to dissimulate it. Goyle wonders if you have already fallen in—"

"Goyle doesn't wonder anything, Zabini. He doesn't have the brain power for that," Draco snapped. "I'm not in love with the Gryffindor Princess, nor am I different since we made our relationship public. I'm doing this for my benefit only, Zabini, not because my heart is in it. So I suggest you stop worrying about the know-it-all like she meant something to you and shove off. This isn't your matter, Blaise, and I would hate if we row over it."

Blaise let a smirk tugging on his mouth appear. "You sure get frantic quite fast over the subject." He stood from the chair, fixing his robes from the wrinkles his seat caused. "And just so you know, Malfoy, Hermione is a matter to me. She has turned out to be quite a great friend and person. And, come off it, Goyle isn't as thick as you assume."

Draco continued to frown deeply, his pale complexion was being invaded by a red tint.

Blaise smiled warmly. "Happy Christmas, mate." And then a _crack_ followed that smile away.

"…_Bastard_," Draco hissed through his teeth, looking at the air in which his best friend vanished from.

"Master Malfoy," there was another sound of an apparition in the sitting room, "there is a girl here. She says she was summoned by you today."

"Is it Pansy?" Draco asked the house-elf who had appeared with an annoyed tone as he continued to tug on the sleeve of his blazer. "Because if it is, tell her she's not welcomed today."

"No, Master." The small house-elf shook its giant head. "This girl is very pretty, if Beta is allowed to say, Master."

Malfoy tensed his back immediately, knowing exactly who the creature was referring to.

"Shall Beta let her in, Master? She is right outside these doors."

"Do so, Beta," the Slytherin ordered, clearing his throat hastily as he tried to push away all other hesitant feelings and nerves.

Opening the right door of the sitting room, the house-elf let an alluring brunette inside. "Pass Miss, Master Malfoy is willing to have you."

"..._Willing_." Draco heard the witch mutter, scoffing slightly with a shake to her head. "Malfoy," Hermione Granger, the first Gryffindor to step foot in the Malfoy Manor as a guest, came to a stop in front of the man she will soon marry. "Happy Christmas," she said politely, uneasiness in her voice as the house-elf stared at her with giant blue eyes.

"Granger," Draco breathed, momentarily stunned by the sight of her.

He had to resist the urge of approaching her so he could run his slender fingers around the fabric of her surprising velvety, sleeveless dress. He noticed that the dark color of it contrasted with the color of her creamy skin that he found himself longing to move his fingers from the softness of it to the softness of her pale skin. He also noticed that her brown curls were slick straight and flowing gracefully behind her back like a silky curtain.

"Didn't I say it wasn't a formal thing, Granger?" Malfoy cleared his throat again, but this time to rid those strange thoughts of being attracted to her from his head.

"Who said it was for you, Malfoy?" Hermione scoffed, patting down the velvety dress she'd bought earlier during a summer holiday for a special event that may occur. (Just not this one, that was for sure.) "I did agree to be here for possibly an hour, after all. I would've arrived in regular robes, but I assumed I wouldn't have time to get ready later for the Weasleys dinner." She crossed her arms over her chest, rather aggravated as she explained indirectly the problem his invitation had caused her.

Malfoy smirked through the desire of rolling his eyes and then took a step to approach her. "Happy Christmas," he said, reaching down to the center table and lifting up an emerald-wrapped rectangular box. "This is for you," he leaned forward and whispered in her ear, slowly placing the box in her hands.

Hermione's eyes shot open, her skin feeling inflamed and tingly. "Malfoy, you shouldn't have. I didn't even know we were exchanging gifts. If you would have—"

"Just accept it, please. I don't need anything else but you," he murmured expertly, making sure that he sent shivers up her spine so he could feel them too. "That will be enough, Granger." He pressed his cold lips to her warm cheek, then waited for her face to flush before pulling away.

Hermione let out a shaky breath. "…Should I open it now?" She asked resigned. She knew Malfoy would never let her give it back.

"If you wish."

Slowly, the Gryffindor ripped off the emerald wrapping of the box; secretly a bit excited to discover what laid inside. Half of her head was screaming at her to drop the box and run, certain that it was filled with a cursed object, but the other half had Ginny Weasley's voice shouting to surrender to reality.

"Malfoy," Hermione managed to form a gasp as she opened the box, her eyes landing on the object resting inside of it.

And laying on the silk fabric was silver hair pin. Two metallic snakes with deep green emeralds as pupils joined together in the middle of the pins to form a silvery heart. It was the most beautiful hair piece she had seen, and for a Gryffindor, Hermione found herself captivated of the beauty of the snakes.

"Do you like it?" Draco asked in a gentle voice, having had watched every second of her reaction. "It used to be my mother's. It was a Black Family heirloom, passed to every generation of the female Blacks. My mother was the one to receive it from her sisters, seeing as my Grandmother thought she was more worthy of it."

She shook her head, giving out a puffed exhale. "Malfoy, I can't take this." She extended the box back to him. "This is your mother's. It belonged to generations of Pureblood women that will roll around in their graves for my having it. I really can't."

This time, the Slytherin rolled his eyes at the witch without trying to subdue it. "They're dead, Granger. It's no matter. Besides, I want you to have it, honestly. It would mean a lot to me if you could accept something that has been in my family for so long." He reached out for her hands, quite dramatically for his tastes, and looked into her brown orbs. "You'll be part of my family soon enough, Granger, and I want you to feel part of it. Please take it."

Looking away from his silver eyes, Hermione shook her hair again; quiet stubborn looking. "I honestly can't—"

"Of course you can." The doors of the sitting room opened and in came a graceful, tall, blonde woman. She was dressed in the finest black robes that contrasted with her white-blonde hair and bright blue eyes.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione whispered, pulling her son's hands away from hers. "This gift... I can't take it. It's—"

"Yours," Narcissa Malfoy offered as she joined her and her son by the center table of her sitting room. "I am aware that Draco has decided to pass it to you, Hermione, and I had no objections. I've no daughters, so it's only reasonable that my daughter-in-law should have it." Narcissa reached for Hermione's hands and closed the box with hers; pressing it tightly to the brunette's palms. "It is a Christmas gift, Hermione, not a death sentence."

Hermione bit her lip, feeling the weight of the box multiply extremely in her hands. She couldn't really say she was pleased that Draco and Narcissa Malfoy were giving her something that was breaking through the barriers that the Purebloods had brought up against the Muggle-Borns, especially if she felt ill-eased about it. Because it was much more than a damned gift, it was a step to the future, she knew it.

And looking over that and onto another terrifying thing, she didn't know how to accept that the hair pin was a symbol to her joining the Malfoy Family. (Perhaps it _was _a death sentence.)

"Will you take it, Hermione?" Mrs. Malfoy asked softly, her blue eyes staring at the teenage witch kindly. A look in her eyes that wasn't normal for the wife of Lucius Malfoy. It was the rarest thing the brunette had seen. "I can call you Hermione, right?"

Hermione took a deep breath, pushing her insecurities aside and nodded her head with all of her courage. "…Of course, Mrs. Malfoy," she gave the woman a dim smile. "And — and I will be delighted to accept the gift."

Narcissa Malfoy smiled too, something sparkling in her eyes as Hermione looked down to gaze at the box she was holding. And taking it as a sign that it was alright to proceed with the girl's visit, she took a step forward to her. "Now, darling, we've a lot to discuss about—"

"Draco, have you seen your mother?" Beta, the house-elf that was watching the interaction between her Mistress and the unknown girl, opened the doors quickly as she heard footsteps outside; allowing access for another blonde to storm into the sitting room.

Carrying a pile of newspapers that appeared to be editions of the_ Daily Prophet_, and a tired expression on his aging face, Lucius Malfoy's gray eyes, alike his son's, grew narrow as he took sight of the young witch in his sitting room.

"….Miss Granger," he said gradually, letting the idea of the Brightest Witch of the Age being inside of his once-prestigious manor sink in.

As he spoke, the tension in the room grew thicker than a Polyjuice Potion.

"Mister Malfoy," Hermione replied in a less hesitant way, inclining her head slightly as she stared at the man that tried to kill her several times like he hadn't attempted to do so and he was just a random stranger. "I...hope you are doing well, sir."

Lucius Malfoy gave a failed attempt of a polite smile at the girl. "As I do to you, Miss Granger."

Hermione resisted the urge to snort and roll her eyes. (She liked to believe the best in people and what not, but _ha_. She was sure that was a pile of rubbish spat out by a troll.)

Exchanging a disturbed look with his mother at the sight of the two interacting, Draco cleared his throat once more.

"Lucius," Narcissa grabbed Hermione's arm, pressing her oddly warm fingers on the bare skin of Hermione's in a swift and unexpected movement. "Hermione and I will be discussing the terms of their upcoming wedding," Narcissa ignored the wince that escaped from Hermione and her husband's body and continued on simply, "and I want everything to be perfect, of course, so there's a lot that needs to be discussed. Stay here with Draco while I show Hermione our gardens, will you?"

Holding on more firmly to the newspapers, Lucius replied, "of course, Cissy. Take all the time you need. I will be...discussing a few terms with our son meanwhile."

"…I rather be eating flobberworms right now," Hermione whispered low enough that only Draco heard as his mother began steering her towards the doors.

Her fiancée gave her another eye roll

"Come, Hermione. You'll love our gardens, I promise you. It might even be a good place for the wedding," Mrs. Malfoy said with what could be identified as joy.

Lucius waited until his wife and the soon-to-be wife of his only son to depart from the room to turn and face Draco, his chest heaving with anger. "_Hermione_?"

Draco shrugged at his father, sitting himself back on his armchair as they were now alone. "Mother has adapted to first name bases, it seems."

**X**

In the night by the moonlight one who'd travel the Malfoy Manor in years past, or even a week ago, would have to stop from where they walked and perked their ears to focus all their attention in a noise that never existed in that house. It was strange, that noise, it held something far more odd than the sounds and it would throw anybody off if they saw who it was that was giving it.

"You're joking!" Narcissa Malfoy gave another loud laugh, so much curiosity and animation than what was expected from a refined Pureblood woman such as her. "There really are places in the Muggle world where you can marry in less than five minutes?"

Hermione nodded, grinning as she took a sip of her Pumpkin Juice; a little entertained by the woman's amusement. "Yes, ma'am. There's this place in Muggle America, in fact, that's famous for these weddings." She placed the goblet back on the garden table, laughing lightly along with Mrs. Malfoy. "It skips all the dramatics and stressing of a formal wedding, sort of ideal in some ways if you think about it."

A pause in the conversation was taken as Mrs. Malfoy waited until her giggles and outrage died down until she spoke again to the brunette witch.

"Well, Hermione, a Magical-Bonding Marriage is an important matter. Especially since they last all eternity.

"I want your wedding to my Draco to be absolutely perfect. I think the two of you deserve it. Granted that the Marriage Law was behind it and all, but it shouldn't stop you from having the wedding of your dreams. I do believe that Kingsley Shacklebolt was right all along when he formed the couples that are to wed," Narcissa Malfoy said sincerely, her eyebrows knitting themselves together as she did.

With the amusement now leaving her expression, Hermione cleared her throat and stared skeptically at the woman before her. "…Mrs. Malfoy, you can't possibly be telling me you're glad that I'm marrying your son?"

The blonde woman picked up a serious expression too. "But I am, Hermione," and again, more sincerity than what Hermione expected. "I know that you and my son have had your difficulties in the past, and not to mention everything Lucius tried to do to you and your loved ones, but I do believe that a marriage with you is what would be best for Draco.

"Sadly, I never believed that he would ever learn the pureness of what being selfless actually means, and I've feared that after the war he'd still be the arrogant boy we raised him to be...He wouldn't last in the world now like that." Narcissa, for the second time that evening, reached for Hermione's hands; holding them firmly across from the garden table. "You're what is best for him, Hermione. And when I found out of your alignment with him, I supported it a hundred percent. Because after everything you fought and stood for publicly, dear, I know you've the power to change anything...And I hope that power can change my son."

The brunette pressed her lips into a tight line, feeling the cool wind of the night blow through her skin that wasn't covered by her dress. "It isn't for love, Mrs. Malfoy, I hope you do realize that." It was now her turn to be honest. "I will admit that your son and I have...developed a strange friendship, or comradeship in the past weeks, but we will not wed with love."

"Not yet, dear." Narcissa patted Hermione's hands optimistically. "But soon, perhaps."

Hermione narrowed her eyes in an uncomfortable way, trying not to show the woman that her hope made her feel dizzy and sick inside.

But with some of that great luck she had left, she noticed a figure approaching them; ready to save her from the weirdness of that entire night.

"Mother," Draco Malfoy strolled into the garden from the long pathway. "Have you not realized what time it is? You've been out here for three hours. Granger must go back to the Weasleys before they threaten to send Aurors to search for her."

Narcissa gave her son a parental stare. "_Hermione_, Draco," she replied, correcting him quickly in the process of his lack of manners towards his fiancée, "has sent Beta to the Burrow to inform them that she will be staying the night."

"She what?" Draco's eyes snapped opened, instantly horrified.

And copying his action, Hermione stared up confusedly at Mrs. Malfoy like if she had suggested something completely insane. "_I what_?"

"Well, Hermione, it's absurd for you to leave now, it is night fall. And, besides, I assure you that a night in the manor won't do you harm. You can get to know the place a bit better because after your marriage I demand that you two visit quite regularly."

The brunette leaned back against her chair, not even letting the last piece of her response sink into her head just to avoid herself from vomiting. "But I-I...I didn't—"

"Of course you didn't, Hermione," Narcissa gave another gentle laugh. "I had Beta inform the Weasleys that you will be staying the night, completely safe and sound, obviously." Narcissa stood from her chair and pulled the young witch up with her at the same moment. "I sent her with a bottle of Veritaserum in case they thought she was lying, so don't worry — either of you."

Draco frowned past his little gawk of shock. "When did you do this, Mother? Granger was with you the entire time." He couldn't believe that his mother had taken such a liking for the Gryffindor Princess, enough to let her sleep in their anti-Muggle-Born home in just a few hours.

"When she was looking at the Tulips I planted, darling." Narcissa smiled at her son. "Now, show Hermione the guest room on your floor and make sure she is comfortable." Mrs. Malfoy placed Hermione's hand onto Draco's, clasping their hands together. "So adorable."

The couple frowned instantly, wanting to pull away.

And ignoring that, Narcissa patted her son's cheek and gave the girl a smile. "Have a pleasant night, Hermione. I shall see you in the morning."

Waiting a few seconds, Draco hissed a, "What did you do to her?" with great suspiciousness as he led Hermione, fingers intertwined, back to the manor.

"What did _I _do?" Hermione huffed. "What did she do? This was not planned, Malfoy." She stopped abruptly on the pebble pathway that led to the entrance doors of the Malfoy Manor. "I was suppose to be enjoying Mrs. Weasley's excellent cooking, not stuck freezing my butt off out here and playing sleepover with you."

Draco glared, pulling her arm to continue their way out of the cold as he mumbled a curse. "Well, I can always convince her to let you go back to Potter and Weasley, Granger."

"No, no, no," she clucked her tongue at him disapprovingly. "I can never do that to your mother." She spun to face him, swallowing the image of how the moonlight reflected off of his white face and made his silver eyes shine profoundly; making them glow. "That would be immensely rude of me, and she has already gone through the travel of sending your house-elf to the Burrow. I think I should stay, it's common courtesy, isn't it?"

Draco raised his eyebrow, suspicion bubbling deeper in his blood as he wondered why in hell the Gryffindor would agree all of a sudden. "Alright, Granger, what did she do to you?"

"Nothing, Malfoy, she just likes me." Hermione flicked her finger on his forehead, swaying his blonde hair away from his eyes. "Maybe even more than you, I expect."

"I doubt that will ever be—" Draco Malfoy was cut short as Hermione pressed her lips quickly onto his; silencing him completely with the shock of her action.

"Your mother's right, you never shut up." She flicked her fingers against his forehead once more and began to walk towards the manor without him, not even thinking once about what she had just done. (It was Christmas after all, it was the season of giving and being humble.)

Taking a moment to process the kiss, Draco chased after her. "What did she tell you?" He asked loudly, breaking into a run as his fiancée started running as well. "Granger!"

"It's Hermione, Draco!" The brunette laughed as Malfoy chased her, the cold air blowing right past through her but she felt warm inside.

Up above, from the tallest room in Malfoy Manor, staring down at the two teenagers running in the garden with ease and no thought, Lucius Malfoy frowned at them. A kind of hatred still boiling in his eyes for the young witch, but more for the boy chasing after her like he was having the time of his life before heading to bed. He scowled deeply at the look of Draco's happy eyes and the magnitude of his smile as the moonlight washed over him and his fiancée.

"…That poor idiot," Lucius hissed under his breath, hiding half of his pale face behind the silk curtains as he watched. "He will end up failing like in everything he has attempted to do."


	16. The Visitor

**Chapter Sixteen**

_ Crack**.**_

Inside of the room that she has gotten to know well over the years, cleaning and maintaining its majestic state, Beta the house-elf apparated quietly in the center of the room, staring at the figure asleep on the bed silently.

Beta was a bit surprised when her young Master asked for her to fix the room for the unknown witch's likes, so she would feel right at home and there would be no complaint the following day. And as it was her job, Beta quickly conjured something, but by the expression on the young girl's face the night before, Beta could tell that she did not think that Beta could ever make her feel comfortable no matter how she decorated the room.

Because by the glaze of her eyes, Beta could already hear the thoughts of the unknown girl, and that was that the Malfoy Manor could not simply feel like a home.

And although the girl might have thought that, and although it may have been true, at least the house-elf felt a bit of pride when she walked silently towards the grand bed and saw the girl sleeping peacefully in it; wrapped in the silk sheets.

From the view she was getting, and from what she had gathered the night before, Beta could tell that the girl was like no other. She was different. She was warm, something that she wasn't quite used to in the Malfoy Manor. Beta was accustomed to have greedy Wizards and Witches barking orders at her or saying the foulest things of the other members of the Magical Society as they made her job harder. They always had a glint of disgust in their eyes, chins stuck up in an almighty way as if they all assumed they were the greatest thing that has happened to the world since Merlin himself.

But that was back then, back when the streets weren't safe, when death was looming everywhere. Now Beta saw a strange peace around the manor she served. A strange and twisted smile on her Master and Mistress' face, almost like a crushing weight had been lifted from them and suddenly the air was filled with the loveliest aroma.

And despite the happiness she feels for her masters new attitude, the house-elf seemed more captivate—although she shouldn't and must punish herself for it later—by the warm girl wrapped around her young master's sheets. She just seemed to glow, holding kindness and a humble look on her young face. And, if her ears had not deceived her yesterday, the girl was to wed Master Draco and Beta couldn't help but to feel a joy for the upcoming union.

Their union was going to change everything, she could feel it in her fragile bones.

And with a smile after that thought, the house-elf walked towards the bed. "Miss," she muttered in a low voice, coming to the edge of the bed where the witch hung her head. "Miss?" She said again, jabbing a skinny finger onto her cheeks. "Miss!"

"_Ginny_," the witch growled, shoving the finger away. "Not now. Go away," she said with her voice dripping with sleep.

Beta jabbed harder. "Miss Granger."

"Ginny, I said—" At the instant that Hermione opened her eyes, she jumped startled at the sight of the house-elf. She clutched the silk sheets close to her body, but by the velvety texture — something she wasn't used to at the Burrow — Hermione tossed them away from her with confused eyes.

"Miss is just like young Master Draco," Beta said with a smile, patting the silver sheets of the bed. "He grows quite frantic whenever Beta wakes him up."

Looking around the grand guest room, Hermione felt the memories of the night before sink into her head. And by the demeanor of the room, but the oddness of it, she had nothing left to do and resign with a defeated sigh that she, in fact, just had a sleepover at the Malfoys.

_For fuck sakes_, she thought as she rubbed her eyes to push the sleep away.

"Good morning, Beta," the witch settled on being polite, yawning lightly as she tried ignoring the fact that she was sleeping on a Malfoy's bed.

"Good morning, Miss." The house-elf bowed. "Beta is very sorry for startling you, Miss, but Beta intercepted a letter from a strange owl a minute ago and found that the parchment was for you."

Pushing herself into a firmer sitting position, groaning internally as she saw the emerald nightgown on her body that was most definitely not hers, Hermione took the letter from the house-elf's hand with a mumbled, "thanks."

_This is going to be hard to Oblivate from my head_, she thought to herself again as she recognized the writing on the cover of the letter.

_'Mione,_

_We are terribly sorry if we wake you up earlier than you're used to or the owl brews problems with you and the Malfoys, but we are in dire need at the moment of you and your kind heart._

_As you know, since I have bragged about it all the train ride to the Burrow, our wedding is to be held on New Years, and seeing as we've a limited time to get everything set, mum has forced Harry and I to spend the entire morning, and possibly evening, shopping for things that are important for the ceremony. _

_The thing is, Harry was supposed to watch over little Teddy today, but seeing as the plans came unexpected yesterday night over our annual Christmas dinner, we have no babysitter.__ Andromeda will be joining us as well, as it is important to Harry, and Teddy is left unattended. And Mum refuses to let Teddy stay with Ron. (You know he's absolutely rubbish with the baby and she doesn't want to risk a row with Andromeda because of Ron's stupidity.) _

_So as our friend and my Maid of Honor, we ask of you for the smallest favor: watch over Teddy?_

_We love you,_  
_Ginny and Harry._

"That bloody ass-kissing witch." Hermione laughed, folding the letter back into its original square. "She knows how to convince me," she clucked her tongue, kicking the bedsheets with her feet and jumping out of the bed. "Beta, is there a fireplace around here?"

"Miss is expecting someone?" Beta replied in a question, watching with curiosity as the young witch spread an expression of deeper warmth, of affection throughout her entire pale face. Even humming softly as she found a pair of slippers that Narcissa Malfoy had sent her before she went to bed last night.

"Yes," was all the brunette said as images of that blue-haired baby that she'd grown to adore played behind her eyelids. It had been a while since she had seen Teddy Lupin, four months to be exact, and she felt a dire need to see him again. She felt exactly like Harry and Ginny did, possibly not as intensely seeing as they were the Godparents, but she did enjoy the baby boy's presence.

"Right this way, Miss." Beta took a hand of the girl, reminding herself to punish herself later for such daring act.

Hermione smiled, letting herself be dragged to the furthest corner of the room where a beautiful and elegant fireplace sat. "Thank you, Beta," she whispered as she waited, standing in front of counting seconds.

One.

Two.

Three — _Oh Crap, _Malfoy_! What if he doesn't react nicely to the fact that Teddy's here? He's been civil with me because, unfortunately, we have to marry, but Teddy's nothing. Well not nothing, but still! He's the son of a known werewolf and…._

Her worried thoughts were cut short as the bright scarlet fire started burning green, and in less than a millisecond a face emerged from the fire; smiling at her with spectacles on its face. Glittering in the fire, a body started forming from the flames soon after the face was formed.

Hermione watched as Harry Potter walked out of the fire, smirking at her as he handed her a diaper-bag, all in one movement.

"Be nice about it, Harry." Five seconds later, a redhead emerged from the flames as well, but she was carrying a bundle in her arms. "She is doing us the favor anyway, so wipe the smile off before I smack you," Ginny Weasley scolded her fiancée as he kept smirking at the brunette.

"Thanks, 'Mione." Harry tried to push off the smirk with an overly large grin, handing her a rattle and a box of baby-wipes.

Hermione rolled her eyes, stuffing the items into the bag before heading towards Ginny. "You know, Harry, I don't feel bad that I'll be changing his diapers. You, on the other hand, will be spending hours with three women deciding what will go perfectly in your wedding reception." She sent him a smirk she'd learned from the Slytherin Prince. "Think of all the colors, patterns, fabrics, and textures you'll be seeing."

Harry frowned at his best friend, resisting the urge to give her a shove as she took Teddy from Ginny's arms. "Now I see why Ron didn't want to come." The two girls smirked at him, his frown became deeper. "We'll see you later on then. Take care of him for me." Uncharacteristically for the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry placed a chaste kiss on Teddy's forehead, pushing aside his hair. "I'll try to end this torture as soon as I can."

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Ginny snorted as she gripped on to Harry's arm, then she sent a quick victorious wink at the brunette as she and Harry disappeared with a loud _Crack_.

"A baby," Beta breathed, gawking at the small bundle pressed tightly to the brunette's chest. "It has been a while...years...since Beta has seen a baby in the Manor." She lifted herself a few inches taller with the tip of her overly-large toes. "Beta thinks the baby looks peaceful," she said with a kind of awe.

"Adorable, isn't he?" Hermione smiled, touching the tip of the baby's chin. "I think I should go tell Mrs. Malfoy about him," she thought aloud, receiving a nodding agreement from the house-elf. "Here," the Gryffindor bent down towards Beta, "take him for a bit while I go inform Mrs. Malfoy about Teddy. When I call you just bring him, please."

"Miss wants B-Beta to take care of the b-baby?" Her large blue eyes stared shockingly at the witch. "Beta feels strangely honored, Miss," she said with a quivering voice as Hermione placed Teddy on her slender arms. "Beta promises to take very good care of the baby." She bowed gently as Hermione headed towards the door.

The witch smiled. "I know you will, Beta." And then opened the door, her head racing with thoughts.

_Here goes nothing_, she crossed her fingers behind her back as she closed the door of the room and headed to find the master bedroom.

** X**

"…Breathe, Hermione," the young witch said to herself, pacing silently in front of a grand marbled door. "Mrs. Malfoy seemed really pleased with you yesterday night...There shouldn't be a problem for having Teddy — Yeah, but what about Mister Malfoy?" She contradicted herself. "He hates half-breeds, and you know he will chuck Teddy out in a heartbeat. Ugh. Just because Remus was—" She stopped herself, her throat growing dry at the mention of the man she had learned to grow fond of. (Damn her sensitivity at the moment.)

"Just do it," she shook her head, getting back on track. "Where's the Gryffindor courage?"

She waited for something to contradict her, like always, but nothing came. This time there was no logical voice. It was just her and the fact that she knew what she believed in. And if her future father-in-law — she cringed — wanted to throw Teddy out, well then she would leave with him. (And if it came to that, she wouldn't let Draco visit his parents after they were both married.)

Taking in an inhale, Hermione fixed the nightgown on her body, making sure no wrinkles were present, then she proceeded to life her knuckles onto the marbled door; making a soft knock.

She waited.

Knock.

She still waited.

Knock.

"Enter," Narcissa Malfoy's elegant voice spread through the slightest gap of the door; sending another jolt of fear through Hermione's system as she was still expecting silence.

The brunette witch took a moment to take a deep, deep, breath and then she pushed the door forward.

"Hermione."

"Good morning, Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione said in a gentle voice as she took a careful step in, almost giving her a courtesy. "I'm sorry to wake you but—"

"Not at all dear." Narcissa laughed, turning away from her large vanity mirror and smiling brightly at the girl. "I've been up for the last two hours, so don't fret, darling."

Raising her eyebrow, Hermione asked, "couldn't sleep, Mrs. Malfoy?"

She watched as the blonde woman gave a soft laugh. "As an ancient Pureblood woman, Hermione, I was raised to be up at the crack of dawn. I couldn't sleep past the rising sun. It was important and taught to us to be fully awake before our husbands." She gestured to the empty bed at the center of the room where the silk black sheets were spread perfectly on the mattress, holding no body wrapped in them. "And please, call me Narcissa," the woman added.

Hermione gave a hesitant nod. "Mrs — _Narcissa_," she corrected quickly, allowing herself a few steps closer to the vanity, "I've done something that isn't…well something that I shouldn't have done without your permission or consent."

"Did you steal a book, Hermione?" Narcissa giggled, returning back to look at her reflection and grabbing a silver brush from the top of the vanity.

"No," the young witch tried to tug on a small smile on her face to go along with Mrs. Malfoy's laughter. "I received an owl from Ginny Weasley a few moments ago, asking for a favor an important favor. And I couldn't really deny her, seeing as it would be rude to just leave…." Hermione heaved another puff of air, trailing off. "…It's better if I just show you."

Mrs. Malfoy rose an eyebrow through her reflection. But before she could asked, Hermione looked up to the ceiling and whispered, "_Beta_."

At the call for the house-elf, an apparition sound popped around the master room and Beta appeared with Teddy Lupin fully awake and attached to one of her bony hands.

Narcissa Malfoy spun around on her bench, dropping the brush on her carpeted floor from what just appeared in her bedroom. Her eyes slightly widened at the sight of a figure much shorter than the house-elf, standing a couple of feet before her. "Is t-that...?"

"Narcissa, this is Teddy," Hermione said, taking her chance as her future mother-in-law trailed off. Her stunned eyes gaping at the blue-haired baby. "Teddy Lupin."

"...A-Andromeda's..." Narcissa breathed as she rose up from her small bench. Her eyes grew open much more as Teddy stared back at her, smiling as his hair faded into a white-blonde; matching Narcissa's perfectly. "….He's got Andy's eyes," the woman murmured, looking deeply into the grey eyes of the child.

"Actually, we believe they're Remus'," Hermione chirped, a satisfied expression on her face as Narcissa seemed fascinated by the infant. "But he does have his mother and Grandmother's natural dark hair."

Mrs. Malfoy bent beside her sister's grandchild. "Has my sis — _erm _— Andromeda asked you to watch after him?" She questioned, fingering Teddy's blonde hair gently with awe.

"No, it was Harry." The brunette bent on the opposite side of Teddy, smiling more largely as Narcissa clasped a hand over her mouth as Teddy proceeded to copy the shape and color of Narcissa's blue eyes. "Andromeda is accompanying them in their hunt for things for their wedding come New Years. Andromeda has become a vital person in Harry's life, alongside Teddy since the war. Tonks and Remus made him godfather before they...before they…." Hermione couldn't find her voice to say it, especially in front of the boy.

"Very well then." Mrs. Malfoy caressed Teddy's chubby cheeks with an emotion that wasn't quite usual on the Pureblood woman's face. It was almost as if she felt something for the boy who was rightfully a member of her family. "I'll go inform Lucius that we have a guest," she smiled as Teddy leaned into her touch.

"So, he can stay?"

"Of course, Hermione." Narcissa stood up, looking at the brunette with a glitter in her eyes that looked like gratitude. "He's family after all. And Teddy is welcomed whenever, same as you. This will one day be your manor, dear, and the Mistress of the house has a say in everything." She gave her another smile and turned towards the door.

"Mistress, should Beta inform the other house-elves about the baby?" Beta asked her mistress before she could fully leave her bedroom.

"Certainly, Beta. We'll need baby-food and anything necessary for a baby, of course." Narcissa gave another great laugh as the house-elf trailed behind her. Both of them exiting the door, excitement written on both their faces like Christmas had repeated itself and they got twice of wonderful gifts.

Hermione dropped herself on the carpet, stretching her arms open as her face held an expression of amazement and relief. "You're a danger, Ted," she said, gesturing with her stretched fingers for him to come to her. "I can imagine the hearts you're going to break once you are older." She paused, frowning for a second. "Much, much, older Ted."

"Pfffft," the boy let out a gurgle, clapping his hands animatedly as he wobbled his way to Hermione.

"That's it Ted, few more steps, baby, few more steps!" She encouraged, happiness expressing itself throughout her pale face and stretching all over. She couldn't really explain the joy she felt whenever Teddy was around, it was almost a maternal feeling in her, something that scared the magic out of her because it was unknown. It was something that was far beyond her imagination, something she never gave much thought of.

Hermione Granger was many things, but a mother seemed impossible to ever be. She was the Brightest Witch of the Age, One-Third of the Golden Trio, a War Hero, an Activist, a Daughter, a Friend, a Fiancée, but a Mother seemed so silly and complex. Simply because she was never the fairytale type of girl.

Sure, she had imagined that she would get married one day, that she'd fall in love and settle down, but that wasn't a priority. It wasn't her dream, it wasn't something she fantasized about. Well, she wasn't going to lie that when the war was happening and she was constantly almost dying every other day that she pictured growing old, she pictured a family, but she never actually _thought _of it.

But now what?

Now she was going to have to just _do _it just because? What if she wasn't good at it, at being a wife? (Not that she really cared about that one too much. Malfoy could handle his own for all she cared.) But when the rest would happen — the rest that came with marriage? What then?

"There you go, Teddy!" She squealed as the still blonde baby collided into her chest. "I knew you could do it! You're growing up so fast!" She bounced him up, sending him flying a couple of inches into the air. "You're going to be flying a broomstick next, you watch, baby!"

Teddy's giggled resided and echoed around the room, a smile so heartbreakingly innocent and charming on his face as he continued to fly.

_ I'm going be a horrible mother, I just know it, s_he said mentally as her giggles mixed with the soft, excited ones of Teddy repeatedly.

And as she did, as she distracted herself, by the small opening that Narcissa Malfoy had left unclosed, a single grey eye peered in. Watching the girl play with the small child, growing interested at the sight of the glow on her face whenever the baby boy laughed along with her. Enhancing her strange beauty as she smiled warmly, making her glow in a way that was never really fully seen.

_She'll be a great mother_, Draco Malfoy thought as he pulled his eye away from the gap, an unnatural smile, one filled with affection, spread along his mouth. _If I am to have children, I'm glad it will be with her._

And for once, he meant something honestly. Though he doubted anyone would ever know of it.


	17. Losing to the MuggleBorn

**Chapter Seventeen**

"Stop him!"

"Never!" Hermione shouted as she dashed through the sitting room. She ran with all her might, leaping over a thrown armchair as she jumped on the back of the blonde Slytherin a few steps ahead of her.

"Got you!" She shouted loudly at him as they stumbled down, pulling on his hair teasingly as she sat on his back. "Face it, Malfoy, you lose," she said softly, breathing into his ear.

Feeling light shivers as the girl's breath collided with his skin, Draco Malfoy flipped her over; slapping her back as gently as he could against the carpet of the sitting room and regaining some of his pride in the process. "Us Malfoys, Granger, _never _lose," he whispered as he laid himself on her, the tips of his blonde hair gracing her forehead.

Hermione bit her lip. "Well, Mister Malfoy," she frowned at the Slytherin, trying to settle the bizarre rate her heart was beating in, "there's a first time for everything. And as it turns out...the Light Side always wins." She flicked his forehead with her index finger.

"Is that so?" He asked, unmoved by her comment or action. Instead he took the liberty of piercing straight through her soul with his eyes, making sure that the intensity beamed deep into her. He wanted her to grow frantic at the sight of him, to heave a sigh as the magnitude of his silver eyes stared at her and overwhelmed her to the point of overload. (Yeah, that's how great he knew he was.)

"Because I disagree," he murmured, lowering his forehead against her. He smirked to himself as she took in a ragged breath and she watched as his lips approached her.

Yesterday night, she had kissed him and now it was time for Draco Malfoy to reclaim control and show her who was who in this game of cat and mouse.

"Ugh, _more_!" A circular golden object hit Draco beside the head.

Okay, maybe their game was in need of a pause.

"Merlin, Ted," Malfoy smiled at the baby boy, shifting himself off of the brunette and taking a seat on the floor next to her, "you caught the snitch. You're going to be an incredible Quidditch player one day." He grabbed the snitch from the floor and tossed it up in the air; feeling smug as Teddy watched the golden ball soar in the air with captivating grey eyes that were matching his.

Hermione huffed, setting herself in a sitting position as her heart calmed itself. "Please, Malfoy, Teddy will be one incredible student. With a brain like his, mixed with his father's genetics, I won't be surprised if he is top of his year."

Draco rolled his eyes. "Come off it, Granger. The boy's has Black blood running through his veins. He'll be exceptional at anything."

"Because of his ancestors?" She scoffed at her fiancée.

"Think about it, Granger," Malfoy continued, letting the snitch go out of his hand as it sprouted its wings. "He has Andromeda's blood, Sirius Black's, Lupin's, my mother's, Nymphadora's, and not to mention Bellatrix's." He paid no attention to the wince Hermione gave at the last name, and watched as Teddy chased the snitch around the sitting room again. "You've to admit, Granger, that my aunt, as mental as she was, was a bright witch."

"I suppose," she said through clenched teeth, her body feeling rigid like if she could feel her skin tightening as she felt memories of the torture curse being used on her by his Auntie Bella. "….She was insane and completely barbaric, but I won't deny she had her smarts."

Sighing to himself, Draco shook his head as he scolded himself silently. He knew that he had to stop bringing things from the past, things that had almost ended Hermione Granger's life into their conversations. He was never going to get her to be comfortable around him and his Manor if she kept remembering things she suffered with him or in his home.

"Um, Granger?"

"Yes?" She whispered, watching the blue-haired child with amazement as he leaped forward and gripped the snitch into his chubby hand.

"I am...grateful that you brought Teddy over," he mumbled, feeling a bit whipped at the thought of his appraising someone else's actions. "If you have not noticed, it means a lot to my mother...It's sort of a..."

"A connection to the sister she lost?" Hermione finished for him.

Malfoy tried not to scowl. "It was complicated back then, Granger. You know that. The Pureblood mania going around was hard to live with in their times. You were in it or you were not. And if you were to turn your back against them it meant being shunned from their world, or worse, dead. And my Aunt," Hermione couldn't help but let a small smile out, "made the mistake of choosing a Muggle-Born over her family. The Blacks were the best Pureblood family in those years and their rules were law. Mother was forced in letting her go.…"

"I can't and won't say that I understand, Malfoy," Hermione added as her fiancée fell into silence, but her eyes were kept on Teddy who attempted to catch the snitch once more. "Perhaps because I'm not a Pureblood, but family is the most important thing. Because without them," she jumped slightly on her seat on the floor as the child ran straight into Draco's arms; startling the two teenagers at the same time, "you have nothing at all."

Draco's immediate reaction was to push the infant away from him, but he ignored the slight uneasiness and hugged Teddy back. Ruffling his blue-hair awkwardly as Hermione watched them with an amused expression and a smile he wanted to curse off.

"Will you look at that." The door to the Manor's sitting room opened and in strolled Narcissa Malfoy, a soft stare on her pale face as she took in the sight of her son with her nephew. "I've come to take him from your hands for a while, Hermione," she explained as the brunette looked at her oddly.

"He isn't a bother, Mother," Draco said, feeling fascinated and a bit arrogant as Teddy began copying his hair color; looking like he did when he was a child.

"Of course not, darling," Narcissa looked at Teddy longingly, "but I want him to get to see the rest of the Manor. And I think he could help me melt your father's heart a bit."

Hermione dropped her smile. "I am sorry, Narcissa, that I've caused a problem with you and Mister Malfoy. I forgot to take into consideration the views Mister Malfoy has on the rest of us."

Mrs. Malfoy shook her head, growing a bit irritated at the words Hermione had said. "Nonsense, Hermione. Lucius has to understand sooner or later that his views no longer count now. Teddy is family, whether he likes it or not. And seeing as this is my Manor as well Teddy's allowed whenever."

Hermione sent Mrs. Malfoy a nod, indicating that she understood the situation. (Not to mention she quickly wanted to get out of it. Awkward, much?) "Ted, would you like to go with your Aunt Cissy?" She waited until Teddy pulled himself from Draco's arms and turned to her. "She's going to give you a tour around the Manor. Would you like that? You'll get to see loads of stuff."

"A-Aunt Cissy," Teddy stuttered out, nodding his head excitedly. All eyes in the room watched as the boy wobbled his way to Narcissa, anticipation written on his chubby face as he clutched on to the snitch and he stretched his free hand to Mrs. Malfoy.

"Oh, that was excellent, Ted," the elder witch exclaimed gently, pulling him up to her waist. "We'll start in the gardens, alright. I think I'll have Beta find some of Draco's old toys for you as well."

"What?" Malfoy shouted, his eyes opening widely as his mother headed out the doors with his second-cousin. "I don't share!"

The Gryffindor laughed. "Oh, honestly, Malfoy. What harm could Ted possibly do to your possessions?"

"…This is why I never wanted siblings," he huffed, crossing his arms across his chest. "I don't like other people touching what is mine. That's why they were bought for me, so no one else could have them."

"Selfish brat," Hermione snorted.

"Know-it-all."

Hermione gasped, sinking her fist into his chest. "I am intellectual, Malfoy! _In - te -lle -cut -al_!" She pronounced every syllable carefully.

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "_Si - li- en - ce_."

"Git." She punched him again as she threw herself on him, straddling his lap as she kept sending hard punches on his chest. (Who knew she was so aggressive?)

"Off, woman!" He hissed, trying to grip her fists with his right hand, while covering his face with the left one to avoid damage to his handsomeness. "Off!"

Draco watched a bit captivated, through the blur of fists, as the brunette moved from punching his chest to tickling his sides. He stared at the sight of the happiness radiating off from her, expanding out towards him and taking him too. It seemed infectious as he too began to laugh, but not because of the tingles she was sending through his body, but because of her joy. Because he could _feel_ it too, like if they were sharing that bolt of happiness and ease.

"Okay, that's enough. I'm the man, Granger!" He stated as he chuckled, tossing his leg over her hip and pinning her to the ground; landing himself on top of her once more and regaining his status.

"Don't be a prat, Malfoy, I'm a lady," Hermione squealed as his cold fingers began to attack the exposed flesh of her stomach. She struggled to pull down her shirt — which was another gift from her future mother-in-law — as she choked on air. "Stop!" She shouted, feeling her sides burn from the intense laughter roaring through her.

"Never!" He mimicked her, tickling faster.

"You do it like a m-muggle!" She heaved out, gasping for air.

This time, the Slytherin gasped. "Muggle?" He said a bit aghast. "I'll teach you what I do like a muggle." He pinned her hands over her head as his strength kicked in, he looked her deep in the eyes. Just the way he knew how to do it, so enthralling. He began to lean down, already savoring the feel of her lips on his. He smacked on another smirk on his face as she tried to pull her arms from above her head, looking frantic as he gazed at her hungrily.

He was Draco Malfoy; he always took control and it was time she knew that.

_Crack_.

"—You're such an idiot!"

"—_I'm_ the idiot?"

Groaning as he stopped instantly, turning away from the target that Hermione's lips were. (Apparently, he was never going to be taking control.)

"You're the one who didn't want to take the Floo Network, you cow!"

"Did you just call me a cow — _Drake, did he just call me a cow_?" Pansy Parkinson stomped her way towards the couple laying on the floor, ignoring the fact that her friend was on top of the girl and that his face was twisted into a deep frown. "I'll have you know, Blaise," she turned away from the blonde to glare at the dark boy she had just apparated with, "that I lost those ten pounds!"

"Ten?" Blaise huffed, strutting his way towards her and the couple. "It was twenty-five, and you had Madam Pomfrey fix your nose!"

"Ah!" Pansy gaped at him, her jaw dropping. "You promised you'd never tell!"

"_I lied_!" Blaise shouted back.

"Charming, aren't they?" Malfoy whispered down to his fiancée, the frown still present on his pale face.

Clearing her throat, feeling instantly uncomfortable, Hermione mumbled, "a bit." She tried giving the blonde a smile as she patted his shoulder in a soothing manner. The same frown threatening to crawl on her face as she saw Parkinson send a well-aimed kick at Zabini.

They just had to show up at that moment, right? They couldn't just get distracted for five seconds wherever it was that they apparated from?

Hermione's jaw opened, a shocking thrill racing up her spine as she realized something. (Oh, dear Merlin, did she actually _want_ him to kiss her?)

"Sorry to interrupt what would've been one dazzling snog," Blaise limped his way to Draco, pulling him up by the collar of his plain black shirt, "but we came here to visit. So if you please, refrain yourselves from being a couple while ours are not present."

Draco rolled his eyes, aiming a kick of his own to Blaise' left leg. (Damn their timing!)

** X **

"So, you sent her an engagement ring for Christmas?" Hermione raised her eyebrow, looking at Blaise Zabini like he was the biggest daft in the world. "You actually _owled_ her a ring?"

"...Yeah?" Blaise nodded, knitting his eyebrows together as the two witches gave him a murderous glare and Draco sent him a bemused sneer. "What's so wrong with that? What girl wouldn't want to be surprised with an engagement ring for Christmas?"

"The kind of girl that imagines a bloke asking her," Pansy hissed, shaking her dark hair at her friend. "Not closing the last deadline in their relationship by mail!"

Blaise stared at her, no other emotion crossed his face but utter confusion. "…It was pure gold," he added, still looking perplexed at the girls frowning at him. "And I sent a note."

"She is never," Malfoy directed a mocking finger at his best friend, "going to let you cry on her anymore. You can start packing your trunk to our chamber because she's not letting you in yours once we return."

Hermione glared harder at the dark-skinned Slytherin, even glancing towards her fiancée. "Why does it have to be our chamber, why can't he go with Pansy?"

"Because, Hermione, I'm not having the prat sleep in my headquarters. He sleeps naked, for Salazar's sake, and do you know how much of a bloody racket he makes? What if I'm trying to 'sleep' with Ron and he bursts in?" Pansy gave a exaggerated snigger. "I think not."

As Hermione and Blaise recoiled at Pansy's statement of fornicating with the Weasel King, Draco couldn't help but notice that the two girls were now in first-name bases. "Did I miss something here?" The blonde voiced his confusion, looking between his friends and his fiancée. "When did you two become such the great friends?"

The witches rolled their eyes.

"Honestly, Drake," Pansy sighed, "there is only so much hatred one can produce, and mine has reached its limit." She smirked as the brunette nodded her head in agreement. "I guess you can say that after the war I just figured there was no reason to hate her, Potter, or any of the Weasleys. At the end they fought for the same reasons we did, and that was for what we believed in. Sure we were twisted," Blaise nodded at that too, taking another Chocolate Frog from the center table, "but I admit defeat. We were a losing battle from the beginning, there was no point denying that."

"Same goes for me, 'Mione." Blaise beamed a chocolaty smile at the brunette. "We were spoiled, brainwashed, arrogant Pureblooded children. It was expected of us to hate what was beneath us."

Before Hermione could slap on an expression of anger or pain, the Slytherin witch continued. "Put it this way, Hermione: I'm the only daughter for my parents, I'm surrounded by male cousins that constantly fed me lies of praising and honoring my blood-status. I was an arrogant, selfish girl. How was it not expected of me to hate all of those who were beneath me, of the people who my father assured me that were no better than me? I was a Princess walking amongst filth, I was bound to hate you."

"Um…thanks?" Hermione cleared her throat, uneasy. She shared a brief glance with her fiancée, both of them expressing the same look. They were both shocked at the sudden acceptance, but grateful for it.

"So," Pansy clapped her hands, snapping their attention back to her, "have you two chosen a date for the wedding yet?"

Hermione mentally cursed, she had forgotten about that once again. (Where was her head these past few days?) But before it could get awkward, a loud _CRACK _rang in the air.

"'Mione." Harry Potter, their Holy Savior and the brunette's best friend, appeared at the sitting room with his fiancée clutching on to his left arm.

"Harry!" Hermione grinned, leaping herself off the armchair she was sitting in. As she swung her arms around his neck to greet him, she couldn't help but feel grateful at his timing. "Gin, you two are late." She smacked the redhead girl behind the head as she directed her arms around her shoulders.

"Mum got a bit carried away," Ginny sighed, waving a hello at the three Slytherins in front of her. "We spent three hours searching for table clothes — _three_!"

"I think she was more desperate to leave than I was," Harry joked as he shook Malfoy's hand awkwardly, and then directed it to Blaise. "She was already brewing up a plan to bail, but unfortunately Mrs. Weasley directed her attention on finding the wedding dress and the day dragged on and on after that." He bent down and hugged Pansy politely. (Mostly because he knew Ron would throw a fit if he excluded her.)

"I would rather just show up with my nightgown, but Andromeda insisted I have a perfect dress." Ginny rolled her eyes. "Who gets married in a dress in these times, honestly."

"True," Pansy replied, waving at her future sister-in-law. "We should all just show up naked, then, Weasley, if the dress code is so loose."

Ginny frowned.

And right on time before the redhead and the Slytherin could start to row, the doors to the sitting room opened, and this time Narcissa Malfoy did not walk in alone.

"Hermione, darling, Beta told us that—" She was followed by her husband and a colored-hair baby in his arms. "Oh, they're already here." She smiled at her newly arrived guest.

"Mrs. Malfoy. Mister Malfoy," Harry greeted a bit tensely, staring at the hold the ex Death Eater who held on to his godson. "Thank you for having Hermione and Teddy over. I appreciate it." He bent his neck slightly, acknowledging their presence.

Oh, the awkwardness that filled the air.

"Not at all, Mister Potter." Narcissa waved her palm. "It was such a pleasure, I assure you." Her greeting smile deflated a few centimeters as something crossed her blue eyes. "…I was actually wondering...Do you think it would be possible you can stop by with Teddy before the holidays end?"

"—Dad!" Teddy beamed at the sight of Harry, kicking his legs a bit frantically as Mister Malfoy placed him on the floor carefully. "Daddy!" He wobbled his way towards the bespectacled wizard.

All of the unknowing faces gaped at the Boy-Who-Lived with astonished eyes as the boy stretched his arms towards him. All of them astounded by the fact that Teddy Lupin had just referred to Harry as his father.

"Oi, Ted!" Harry smiled, ruffling his blue hair. "Did you behave yourself? You better have not given the Malfoys or your Aunt Hermione any trouble. You know your Grandmum Andy will beat you again," he laughed along with Teddy's hectic chortles as he said this.

Little Teddy shook his head, smiling wide without a care in the world. "D-Dra-ko sn-snitch!" Teddy managed to say, snuggling his neck into his Godfather's neck, yawning lightly as his head rested against something.

"Malfoy's been playing with him since he arrived," Hermione interjected as her fiancée gained a pink tint to his cheeks. "I think Ted likes him, Harry. Not to mention that he has a sense of affection for Mrs. Malfoy."

Ginny noticed the elder witch's sad expression as Harry ignored her question. She knew better than anyone that Harry wouldn't want to have Teddy anywhere around the Malfoys, especially with the maniac Lucius. She got that, but Ginny wasn't going to stand by it. Harry had suffered years without family, which you couldn't call the Dursleys as necessarily, and she wouldn't let Teddy suffer the same. She knew her boyfriend was happy that her family was like his own, and they really were, but she knows he would've wanted to have blood-related relatives in his life as well. And it was something they were going to have to give to their Godson.

"You know, Mrs. Malfoy," Ginny pulled the boy off her fiancée's shoulder, smiling softly as Teddy beamed at her and clutched himself closer onto her. She had to ignore the shocked faces, once again, as the boy called her 'Mummy'. (They were the closest thing that came to parents to him, and Andromeda never seemed to correct him whenever Teddy would address them as such.) "Harry and I are getting married on New Years, and I know it's not much of a proper invitation, but I'd be pleased if you could join us."

All of the surprised eyes moved towards Narcissa. "Really?" Was all the Pureblood woman could managed to say. Her eyes were wide with an emotion, one that Ginny Weasley seemed to understand; alike her future daughter-in-law who was smiling grandly for her.

"I'm sure Andromeda will be pleased," Hermione spoke. "And I'm positive that Teddy will be delighted to see you and Mal - _Draco _again." (Oh, to be formal.)

"And what am I, a bloody portrait?" Blaise crossed his arms upon his chest in an offended manner.

Ginny rolled her eyes. "You're obviously invited, Zabini."

"A proper invitation would've been recommended as well, Weasley," he huffed indignantly. "I'm assuming my fiancée is invited as well?"

"Of course." Ginny smirked into her Godson's hair. (Nothing like a little settled rivalry to make her wedding day perfect.)

"Tough luck, Pans, you're not invited." Zabini laughed teasingly, nudging his friend with his elbow.

"I am, prat." Pansy shoved his elbow away. "Ginny sent me the invitation two days ago. And besides, my fiancée's the Best Man, obviously I am allowed to show up." She stuck her tongue out.

Frowning at the crudeness of the girl, Mrs. Malfoy shook her head and said a stern, "Pansy, act like a lady."

"…Sorry," the girl muttered, earning two sneers from her Slytherin friends.

"Brilliant then." The redhead witch smiled at all of them. "Now we must leave, Andromeda is expecting Teddy soon and," Ginny pushed Teddy's hair aside, to expose his forehead and let Mrs. Malfoy kiss him lightly, "we'll discuss this with her. I assure you, Mrs. Malfoy, Andromeda will oblige to this without a problem."

"…I hope so," Narcissa said in a murmur, staring at the redhead as she walked to the nearby fireplace.

Smiling once more at them, Ginny waved a goodbye and said, "See you at my wedding." The flames eating her and Teddy away until they disappeared.

Taking a couple of steps towards the blonde woman, Hermione dared to give the woman a light embrace. "Thank you so much for everything, Narcissa." And as the two pulled away, the brunette whispered, "…I was wondering if you'd like to join me at searching for my wedding dress soon?"

Taking the chance as Harry Potter's exchange of goodbyes with the others drowned out Hermione's request, Mrs. Malfoy grinned beautifully and warmly at the girl. "I will be delighted."

Turning away her smile from the woman, Hermione then turned towards her son who she decided to approach. And as she did, he was about to rise up from his chair when she lifted her palm up, stopping him. "…See you at the wedding, Malfoy," she said in his ear as she hugged him convincingly as possible that is.

Draco swallowed, his body feeling aflame from her skin on his.

Daring herself once again, she pressed her lips softly between his neck and his earlobe, knowing that no one could see. But she did feel him give a throaty breath, tensing up. "…_I win_," Hermione added, leering as she pulled herself away.

And with a smirk, she took Harry's hand, feeling strangely content about the last two days and she didn't even let the fact that Lucius Malfoy had sneaked his way out of his sitting room minutes ago bother her because she knew with the rest of the Malfoy family she had progressed with.

"Goodbye," Draco murmured uncomfortably, scowling as Pansy and Blaise started laughing hysterically, both knowing Malfoy a lot better than what he thought.

And as her best friend and her disappeared with a loud _CRACK_, she felt regret at not letting Malfoy kiss her in the split second that she saw his silver eyes for one last moment. (Damn it, she _did_ want him!)

Things were definitely about to get screwed up, she just knew it**.  
**


	18. The Married and the Soon To Be

**Chapter Eighteen **

At that exact moment, as every second ticked on by on the elderly clock hanging on that old wall, history was being made.

And there they stood: Hermione Granger, Pansy Parkinson and Luna Lovegood dressed in the same pale-blue dressing gowns, looking their best as they stood together. And as they did, their eyes stared at one person in particular, Ginny Weasley. The three girls gazed at her with adoration and content smiles.

"You look.…" Hermione took a step forward from her spot in the middle of the two other girls and directed a watery gaze at the only redhead in the room. "You look stunning, Gin. Absolutely breathtaking. I can't...I can't even begin to describe to you…" She had to stop, tears rolled down her rosy cheeks.

"Stop, 'Mione," Ginny laughed gently, biting her lip as she turned from the full-length mirror in the room and faced her friend. Trying not to let the emotions out as she sunk her front teeth to her bottom lip, keeping it together in a way she only knew how. "You're going to ruin the dress."

Taking a moment, biting her lip exactly like the redhead was doing, both of them trying to contain many tears that were attempting to push themselves out from their hazel eyes, Hermione whispered a jokingly, "…it's just a dress."

"But you're my Maid of Honor, Hermione. You've got to look perfect for my wedding!" At the mention of that holy word, almost like it was taboo or a trigger for a wave of emotions, Ginny let out a single and silent tear. She said no more.

"_Okay_." Pansy stepped away from Luna, walking herself over to the bride and maid of honor. "If I recall, no one opened up a box of sentimental-rubbish, so if you please," she nudged Ginny with her hip, bumping her lightly and causing a round of giggles to be let out by the two crying girls. "I've worked long and hard to get you immensely perfect, Sis, so I suggest you don't try and ruin my work. I can guarantee that you will not like to limp yourself down the aisle if you put my work to shame."

Ginny rolled her brown eyes, blinking away a few tears and hoping that her mascara wasn't running. She would hate it if she was on Pansy Parkinson's bad side. After all, she had witness the tremendous smack Ron had received when he asked Pansy for another Butterbeer without saying the magic word. (Never again will Ron Weasley forget his manners in front of his fiancée.)

"Well excuse me, Pans," Ginny hissed teasingly back, running her fingertips lightly underneath her eyes as she threw Hermione a genuine smile; both of them fixing up their make-up as fast as they could. "It is my wedding day, so forgive me if I'm all jitters."

"No, no, no." Pansy smacked her on the shoulder, handing her a handkerchief in the next second. "No family member of mine shall be jittery in public." Hermione noticed the Slytherin's sincere look on her dark eyes as she referred to Ginny as family.

It had been another shocking moment when Pansy had revealed to Ginny, three days ago in her bridal shower — where the redhead had asked Pansy if she'd like to be one of her brides maids — that if she ever had to call anyone a sister she was proud it was Ginny.

And after four rounds of Firewhiskey, Ginny cried onto the Slytherin's shoulder and told her the feeling was mutual. (It was far from bizarre that Hermione had to drink another round on her own just to get over it.)

"You really do look ravishing, Ginny," the dreamy voice of Luna Lovegood interrupted Pansy's attack on Ginny's nervousness, erasing the odd, sentimental moment between the two witches. "I am very happy for you. Deeply from my heart, I mean it." Her blue eyes flashed with a glint that glazed her orbs. "You're my best friend, Ginny, and I wish you the very best. I know you'll have that by Harry's side, there's no doubt about that in my head."

Ginny stared at the blonde, knowing that although her voice was masked with perfect bliss, that her eyes were glowing with emotion. "You're my best friend too, Luna. You know that I love you," she extended her hand out, ignoring the fact that her future sister-in-law was aggressively fixing the damage the moisture from her eyes had created underneath her eyelids, "always."

Luna reached out for her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. "…You'll be happy, Ginny. Incredibly happy with Harry that you've nothing to ever worry about. Forget the nerves, forget everything else, just think of the wizard who will be waiting for you at the end of the aisle. That's who truly matters."

Pansy dropped her hand slowly away from Ginny's face, turning to look at the Ravenclaw with an astound look in her dark eyes; a look that was far from judging. "Wow, Lovegood, that's beautiful."

"Thanks," Luna replied, smiling dimly.

"Dean must be—"

"I better go find Harry," Luna added quickly before Hermione could get her compliment out. The blonde ignored the witches confused expressions, their raised brows as she slid her hand away from Ginny's and turned towards the door. "There's a lot I've got to say to him as well. He's been like a brother to me for the past year."

"I'll go with you," Pansy stepped away from the two Gryffindors. "I have to make sure Ron's not stuffing his face before the ceremony." She smiled at Luna and waited for her to pass through the door before turning to the two witches again. "…You really have to drop the Thomas subject, Hermione. It's torturing her," the Slytherin witch lectured, closing the door behind her with a scowl.

"Slytherins, eh?" Ginny laughed, patting down her dress. "They're still on about Dean supposedly hurting Luna. Complete rubbish if you ask me."

Hermione nodded in agreement for the sake of it, not wanting to mention that Dean had arrived ten minutes ago, and as soon as he tried to talk to the Ravenclaw Luna had to be dragged off by Neville so she wouldn't slap her fiancée across the face before he got the first 'I'm sorry' out. (Which was a smart move, Hermione didn't want to be the one who caused the bride to go into a fury-spree and attack her guest before the ceremony.)

Adding to Hermione's relief, almost like luck was on her side that moment, the small door of the room opened and one by one the redhead's brothers walked in.

Bill was the first, which suit him right seeing as he was the oldest. He looked at Ginny with proud eyes, almost like a father staring at his daughter. He took the chance as the rest filed in to embrace her tightly with his left arm, his right hand holding onto a scrolled parchment with a red bow around it.

Charlie, the brother from Romania, smiled hugely at her. His burnt fingers, from all the work he does with Dragons, traced lightly around her right cheek after Bill pulled away. Giving her a light caress that he has missed for so many years. His passion for his work did not suffice for the years he'd missed of his sister, of the moments he didn't watch her grow into what she was now. He gave her a solemn smile, unbelieving that time had passed so quickly.

Then came Percy, looking a bit uncomfortable as he pushed his horned-rimmed glasses from the tip of his nose. He threw his little sister a gentle smile, a sincere one, but the guilt that'd seemed to be pouring through him since after the war was still evident on his face. He wasn't sure if he should be present or not, but as he saw the radiant glow from her face and the smile she returned to him he knew he wouldn't have missed it for the world.

Looking charming and for once happy in many months, George entered the room. His dress robes were perfectly ironed and not a trace of a wrinkle was shown. His hair, especially red for some reason, was reaching down to his shoulders. It covered the ear that he had lost; the metaphor of what happened to the missing brother that should've walked in with him. But forgetting the sadness and the grief, George grinned widely at his sister. (Because this was not a moment for sadness and to reminisce about the dead, he knew.)

Lastly, Ron strutted into the room chewing on Chocolate Frog as he smiled at his youngest sibling. A kind of astonished glint passed through his eyes as he noticed her and all of her glory. He could finally see what had all those blokes chasing after her the previous years at Hogwarts, and now he realized he should've locked her up. And part of him, even at that exact moment, debated about hiding her away so she would never had to leave. (Harry would forgive him in the end, right?)

"Whoa, Gin, going somewhere?" George was the first to speak, chuckling at his sister as he spun her around dramatically.

"Yeah, you git," Ginny frowned, but with her amusement high, "to my future."

The five brothers took in a ragged breath through their teeth, staring at the redhead girl like if she'd just smacked each and everyone of them across the face. (That was something five overprotective and older brothers did not want to hear.)

And knowing this, but choosing to ignore it, Ginny asked, "why are you lot here, anyway? Shouldn't you be seated by now?"

George snorted. "What are we, trained monkeys?"

"We already ganged up on Harry, Sis, it's time we did it to you before the wedding started." Charlie smirked in a way that would've made Fred proud. "Oh, come off it, shake that frown off. You knew it was going to happen."

"What did you prats do?" Ginny glared, the amusement dropping from her face. "If I walk down that aisle and Harry's not there you can wager that none of you will survive this. And I would feel terribly sorry for you, Bill," she directed an accusing finger at the eldest, "I've just started liking Fleur to leave her a widow."

Bill chuckled, slapping her finger away, "come off it, Ginevra," he grinned. "You wouldn't murder a bloke who's about to be a father, would you?"

His siblings opened their eyes wide, a gasp passing through them in a circle.

"Bill!" Ginny's jaw dropped. "Are you — _no way_!"

"Yes way." Bill grinned even more grandly, extending the scroll to her that he was holding. "This is my wedding gift for you," he placed the paper into her hands. "Well, not really. I expect Fleur ordered you something from France, but this _my _gift to you."

"She is pregnant!" Ginny exclaimed after a moment, sending the parchment towards Charlie. "It's a St. Mungos exam. Positive, four months."

And in another round, another unorganized and messy round, all of Bill Weasley's siblings shouted a, "_congratulations_!" All of them took turns in embracing him, smacking his back and cheering with an overwhelming excitement.

Sensing that it was a very intimate matter, Hermione opened the door to the room quietly and smiled at the redheads. She gave a silent laugh when Bill shouted, "don't wrinkle it, git. I need to show mum!" and she closed the door behind her.

** X**

She was sitting on an old armchair; not really doing anything, not really thinking of anything. (Which was a first for her.)

"Hermione, there you are, darling." The brunette turned around swiftly as she heard a familiar voice behind soon enough, her eyes caught notice of a very elegant woman glowing brightly in her classic dark robes, her penetrating dark eyes gleaming in the candlelight.

"Andromeda," she smiled at the woman kindly, lifting herself off the chair and stepping forward to embrace her. "How are you?"

"Oh, I'm fine, Hermione." Andromeda Tonks smiled too — a smile that quickly withered away as she took another look at the girl. "But if I may say, I've been a bit worried for you these past few days," the woman spoke with a straightforwardness as she pulled Hermione to the side, letting Arthur Weasley pass them.

Hermione raised her eyebrow, staring at the woman with a perplexed gaze. "For me?"

"Your presence was missed at Molly's annual Christmas dinner, darling," the woman said, her eyes staring deep into the brunette's face. "Molly told me you were spending the day at the… Malfoys." Hermione felt instantly uncomfortable as she noticed Andromeda's tensed expression as she mentioned the name. "Not to mention that you had that boy play with my grandson."

Hermione felt instantly awkward and ill-eased, clearing her throat lightly before speaking. "I, erm. Well, I assumed it was fine." And blessing Merlin from above, because it really did seem like luck was on her side, Hermione's heart stopped beating rapidly as a bespectacled man walked towards them. "I'm sorry, Andromeda, I didn't mean to upset you. I just...I didn't think it'd be a problem if I had Teddy spend a few hours with me. You know that I love him very much and—"

"I'm not accusing you of anything, dear," Andromeda cut across her, narrowing her eyes sternly; making her relax further as the woman patted her exposed shoulder in a gentle manner. "I'm just surprised he came back to me in one piece."

Hermione let out a puff of a chuckle.

"That's the same thing I said," Harry huffed from his stance next to Mrs. Tonks. "I mean — you look stunning, 'Mione!" He tried to turn his scowl into a sincere smile.

"Oh, turn into troll-droppings, Harry." His best friend glared, causing Andromeda to laugh at her reaction.

"Harry, where is—"

"Gran!" Andromeda's question was answered before it was even fully asked as a blue-haired boy came rushing towards his Grandmother and his Godfather. A blonde woman was glued to his hand as he wobbled his way to them.

Hermione's heart seemed to start beating in a fast pace once again, but not by Mrs. Tonks' stare, but because alluring gray eyes found hers; a pair that she hadn't seen for days but had dreamt of some nights. And they were piercing right through her soul as they found their way to hers, setting her on edge.

"A-Aunt Cissy!" The child shouted, smiling up at his grandmother with glittering eyes and distracting Hermione for a split second as he approached closer to them.

And there it was, another moment of history made and established. Andromeda Tonks coming face to face with her youngest sister Narcissa Malfoy after so many years.

And in that instant, in that second the two sisters stared at one another, silence ringing in the air, all that the two pureblooded women could see from each other was Andromeda and Narcissa Black. They could only see the shadows and flashes of those two girls that used to stay up late at night, talking amongst each other in whispers, laughing and playing, living in as much harmony as could be lived within their times.

"Erm...I'm glad you could make it, Malfoy," Harry said, shifting uncomfortably on his feet as the two elder witches continued to stare at each other; neither of them blinking as their eyes connected and no emotions ran through their faces as they shared their moment.

"Yeah, wouldn't have missed it for the world," Draco replied to the Boy-Who-Lived, but paying him no attention as he instead looked at the brunette standing beside him. "…You look beautiful, Hermione," he added in a soft murmur, smiling at his fiancée with a strange twinkle to his silver eyes. "That dress does you justice."

"…It's blue," Hermione mumbled lamely, slapping a hand to her mouth as she heard her reply aloud; feeling instantly stupid.

Harry raised an eyebrow at the two, suddenly becoming a part of the background as their eyes focused on one another and he was ignored.

But just as the Chosen One felt out of the loop, something brought everyone back into the now when Narcissa's cold voice rung through the silence. "Andy..." She took one step towards the sister she hadn't seen in so long. "…I…Teddy, he's such a handsome boy."

A second ticked by, the tension in the air got thicker.

But then, "Shut up, Cissy." Andromeda closed the distance between her sister and her. Strongly throwing her arms around her neck and pulling her close, embracing her tightly like she hadn't done in years.

Between the crying that had started emerging from the two sisters, the three teenagers looked at each other feeling uneasy as the women sobbed onto each other and Teddy started crying as well because of it.

"Harry!" Mrs. Weasley, dressed in red robes, came hurrying to the group. "It's about to start! The Bonder is — Why is Andromeda..." She stopped abruptly with her shouting when she noticed that Narcissa was the one embracing Andromeda tightly. "Oh, Merlin. That's something extraordinary, isn't it?" Molly Weasley breathed, looking at the elder witches with happy eyes.

"Shall I go stand at my place?" Harry asked, more eager to leave the women and to face the nervousness that had been driving him mental since he awoke in the morning. (There was just something about crying women that scared him senseless.)

Gazing at him with the warmest stare that Harry had ever gotten, almost like a mother was staring at her son, Mrs. Weasley gave him a teary smile; something loving and so affectionate burning in her brown eyes. "Yes, dear, it's time."

Blinking away once from the blush on his fiancée's face — one that he was really proud of, if he may say so — Draco looked at his once-upon-a-time-ago enemy casually. "Scared, Potter?"

"…Very," Harry exhaled noisily, walking towards the window of the living room of the Burrow and taking a peek outside; his emerald eyes looking relieved as he noticed his best friend waiting for him at the end of the aisle. "You really outdid yourself with the garden, Mrs. Weasley," he turned to the redheaded woman, smiling in gratitude, "the Burrow looks amazing."

Mrs. Weasley's teary smile grew bigger and more tears fell. "Only the best for you two, dear."

"The snow adds a magnificent touch, Molly," Narcissa, who had already pulled herself away from her sister, placed a palm on Mrs. Weasley's shoulder. "I doubt that you could've made it any better." As she said this, snowflakes came pouring down from the clear sky, spreading about on the grassy floor and the trees that held crystal beads hanging from the branches; giving it a sense of an icy winter wonderland.

The entire wedding theme had been based around winter. Everything was white and icy, from the tablecloths to the chairs, but with a hint of a pale blue tint that reflected off the crystal. Making the guest really feel like they were in a magical stroll through a snowy town, even adding the cozy feeling one feels when this time of year comes by for a quick hello.

"Come on, Ted," Harry picked up the now dark-haired child, "dad's getting married." He grinned to the boy, noticing his eyes turning from their usual grey to an intense emerald; looking like Harry would've if he was still a three year-old.

"I'll be checking on Ginny then — Hermione, to your spot!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed before storming back towards the spiral staircase of her home, greeting the guests as she passed them and they headed towards the gardens.

"Come, Cissy, you'll be sitting with me." Andromeda laced her arm with her sister's, directing her out of the living room and towards the front of the podium where Harry, Ron, Neville and Teddy were already standing by; all of them patting the groom's back for support.

The air suddenly became clearer and easier to breathe, nothing left but two souls.

It was just Draco and Hermione now.

Waiting for a few seconds, trying to push away the red tint that was surely still on her cheeks, Hermione took a shaky step towards the blonde boy. "…You made it."

"I wanted to see you," he replied automatically, taking a step to her as well, so smoothly.

"Is that so?" She raised her eyebrow, taking another step closer to him.

There was a small distance that now stood between them, small enough that she felt his handsome radiance penetrate her and he felt the warmth of her brown eyes enter through his skin.

A leer tugged on Draco's lips. "Very much."

"Granger!" The couple snapped their heads to the side, watching two other young witches dressed in pale-blue standing by the backdoor of the Burrow with their flowers held tightly in front of them. "Leave the git and hurry!" Pansy shouted in an order, frowning without shame that she interrupted the first moment of solitude Draco and Hermione had gotten.

"See you—" Hermione was cut short as a pair of soft lips crushed onto hers; silencing her completely.

And as soon as she was released, the air suddenly cold as it passed through her lips and a shock swept by her like a cold swish of wind, Hermione's brown eyes were wide. "What — What was that for?" She murmured, her head spinning from his daring action.

"A simple reminder that," Malfoy traced a finger on her lips, smirking," _I _win."

More shock ran through the Brightest Witch of the Age's system, her heart giving a loud thump as Draco removed his finger from her bottom lip.

"Granger!" Pansy shouted once more, the music starting to play behind her.

Oh, what a day it already was.

**X**

As the sun poked its way out from one of the dark clouds in the sky, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger walked bemusedly down the stoned pathway that led down to the main grounds of Hogwarts. The blonde wizard had his arm draped around the brunette's shoulders, talking to her in a quiet manner that had her very entertained and even keeping her warm from the cold weather. And as they walked, they seemed to miss the curious looks a few students were giving them, obviously aware that it was a Slytherin and Gryffindor embraced in a close manner as they passed on by like it was the simplest and the most casual of things.

"I can't believe you are serious," Malfoy said, a giant smirk on his face as he continued and led the way, "the audacity of Weasley. I was sure he was daft as a mountain troll, but never to that extent."

"We weren't quite sure why he would just burst in," Hermione explained, giggling along with his mocking chuckles, "but Harry reckons their friendship will never be the same after that."

Draco snorted, shaking his blonde hair. "Obviously, Granger. I doubt that I'd be able to look at Blaise the same if he were to see me naked." He stuck his tongue out in disgust as he envisioned the scene in his head. "Not to mention that the girl was barely starting to put on a show for Potter, ruining their wedding night."

The Gryffindor grimaced, feeling revolved and harassed for the quick image that popped into her head. (Oh, how she prayed she would never catch Harry and Ginny doing anything repulsing.) "The Leaky Cauldron will never be the same for Ron after that." She shook her head to get rid of her previous, perverted thought, and instead choosing to think back to the face her best friend made as he stormed out from the room Ginny had reserved for her and her new husband. "He didn't talk for days after that scene."

"I hope he's learned to knock from now on," Draco commented as he brought Hermione down to the grass gently as he could. Once again finding themselves in that vacant hill that Malfoy had granted to his Gryffindor as a peace-offering before they started getting along. "If he were to storm into our chamber—"

"You imply like we'll be doing something, Malfoy." Hermione scoffed, stretching her legs forward as she looked at the view. "Oh, do you mean that you don't want Ron seeing you in your jammies?" She sniggered loudly, nudging him with her elbow as she inhaled the cold air and sighing contently after her fiancée gave a deep scowl and turned to look at the snow-covered mountains. "Is that it?"

"You're so witty, Granger," Draco's voice dripped with sarcasm, "how ever did I miss it?"

She snorted. "There's a lot of things, Malfoy, that you've yet to learn about me," she said casually, turning to face him again. "For example, I am quite the comedian."

"Was that a joke right there?" He raised his pale eyebrow.

Hermione smiled, laughing lightly. "It was." She reached for his hand and softly rested her palm over his, a little surprised that his skin was actually warm for once. She had found that it was no longer competing with the coldness of the weather, but instead he felt soft. Comfortable.

A dim smile appeared on the Slytherin's face, his silver eyes getting lost towards the mountains as he tried not to look like anything as the girl touched him gently.

"…You know, Malfoy, I'm surprised we never got an owl over the Christmas holidays. From McGonagall or Kingsley," she waited for her fiancée to say something, but instead she met his confused stare. "On the train back to Hogwarts Luna told me she received her owl...You know, because her and Dean never sent in a date of their wedding?"

A minute passed and Hermione grew angry that Draco kept staring at her with his stupidly confused face.

"Remember, the owl they were going to send to the couples that failed to complete the deadline of their wedding dates, Malfoy?" She slapped him beside the head, sending his blonde locks flying over his eyes.

"Oi!" Draco hissed, pushing her hand away. "Relax, will you? There's no need to get aggressive, woman!"

"Well wipe away that confused expression and answer me. You look like a comatose Troll!" She shouted back, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I've already taken care of the situation, _dear_," he snarled once more, rubbing his head roughly. "Blimey, are you sure you've never played Quidditch? That one hurt!"

Trying to restrain her hand from smacking him again, and possibly giving him a concussion, Hermione settled on crossing her arms over her chest once more. "Well, how did you take care of this, _darling_," she took in a whiff of the cool air before she continued. "Professor Slughorn said there was no exceptions for the deadlines. He clearly told us if neither of the corresponding couples proposed to the other, which we didn't, we'd be getting an owl from the Ministry informing us of the date they assigned."

Sighing to himself, letting the anger fade away like a mantra with the breathes he took in, Draco reached for one of her hands after a few seconds. "…I sent an owl of my own to the Minister before the holidays," he said gently, glad that the brunette didn't deny herself from his touch and let him drag her hand to him, "informing him that I could use a bit more of time."

Hermione raised a brow.

And ignoring that, he scooted to her, her knuckles pressed to his cheek as he closed the small grassy distance between them. And as he arrived to her side, he brought her hand to his lips, pressing them softly onto her flesh. "With the Headmistress persuasion, he'd nothing more to do than to oblige to my request."

"Still have your swagger, I see," she mumbled, pressing her lips together as she felt her knuckles burn. "But why buy more time, it's what I'm not understanding here. Wouldn't it have been simpler to just let the Minister assign us the date? I mean, it would be less—"

"Yes, Granger, it could've been easier and less awkward," he huffed at her, lowering her palm from his face, "but then I couldn't do it the right way. I wouldn't be my charming self, would I, if I let someone assign us a date that will tie us together for eternity." He paused for a second, taking in another puff of air. "I wanted you to feel the same way Ginny or Pansy did when their fiancées asked them. Without that wretched, unimportant feeling in your chest like Lovegood or Chang did."

Hermione's breath caught in her throat and her hazel eyes opened widely, Draco Malfoy was suddenly kneeling on one knee; gray eyes boring into her like waves of silver.

"We've had our difficult times," he began, his warm hands clutching on to hers firmly but delicately, "years, even, that I'd be most grateful if we could leave behind us so we could start off new and fresh. I promise you that by my side no harm will ever be presented to you. That I will always be there to cherish you...and make you happy..." He reached into the pocket of his school robes.

"Hermione," he pulled out a silver ring, something so simple, so elegant, yet so breathtaking. Its diamond glittered in the sun, reflecting colored rays off from its crystal; dazzling Hermione into a deeper silence. "Will you marry me?"

The brunette pressed her lips into a tight line, looking at the Slytherin and at the ring very carefully. Calculating, thinking nonstop in those seconds.

_ Is this the part where his mental, dead Auntie Bella jumps from behind him and shouts '_Avada Kedavra'_?_

Five seconds ticked by.

_ I'm waiting — She's not coming, Hermione._

Another second.

_ Really? I could've sworn I heard movement behind those trees — Answer already, you idiot!_

"…Yes," she exhaled, and in the next moment she launched herself to him. The only sane thing she found she could do at the moment from that wave of silver and emotions and thoughts seeping into her system.

She wrapped her slender arms around his neck and placed his back onto the grass, pinning him down as she pressed her lips to him.

She kissed him with an emotion she quite couldn't figure out. Something that she had never truly experienced before. It was something that invaded her insides and seemed to send electrical currents to her organs and made her heart beat at an irregular rhythm; a rhythm she felt his heart beat to as well. Both their lips moved furiously together in a twisted perfect sync.

"Here," Draco breathed, their lips parting away from each other for a slight second. He waited until she straddled him to reach for her hand again, carefully with shaky fingers sliding the silver ring onto her finger.

"….It's beautiful, Malfoy," she said after a moment, her eyes moving from the diamond to his silvery eyes and finding them to be more intoxicating than the piece of jewelry on her finger.

"I think," he put his palms on the sides of her waist, slowly pulling her down so she was resting on top of him, her head snuggled to his neck, n action so simple, so unlike him, that he found great bliss in as he buried his chin in her brown curls, "_you_ are the beautiful one, Mrs. soon-to-be Malfoy."

And even though that should have revolted her, even though that should have made her gag, it didn't. All Hermione could feel was the waves of his heart and the weight and meaning of that engagement ring on her finger.


	19. Hogwarts: Where the screwed live

**Chapter Nineteen**

"—No way, that's not what I heard."

"—Oh yeah, what exactly did you hear, huh?"

"—Both of you are idiots! Did you not hear that they got _married _over the holidays?"

Whispers broke out as two Slytherins approached the Gryffindor table, entering their ears perfectly. They passed through the gold and the ruby clad students with their emerald and silver proudly on their school robes, each of them carrying a goblet and a plate.

"No, that can't be true—they're _too_ young." Another student whispered, ignoring that two Slytherins, their archenemies from the beginning of time by nature, as they took a seat at their table; looking like they owned it.

"Young?" A girl scoffed. "Did you not see her marriage ring?"

Draco Malfoy looked across the table from where he was taking a seat and gave an annoyed expression to Harry and Ginny Potter, both of them looking back at him with a small smirk as they continued to eat their dinner quietly, pretending like they weren't hearing the rumors flying left and right. (Yep, leave it to the Golden Boy to thrive in all this gossip.)

"Really, a ring? No, it can't—"

"Oh, shut up!" Blaise Zabini, the other Slytherin who'd taken a seat at the Gryffindor table, shouted as he slammed his goblet on the tabletop roughly. Ceasing the conversation held in whispers about the new Potter couple around the table in an instant, people looking at him with raised eyebrows and wide eyes. "Yes, they got married! Yes, a Weasley turned into a Potter over the damned holidays! Yes, they're too young! Yes, she has a wedding ring! _Get the bloody hell over it_!"

The huddled group of younger, gossiping witches looked at Zabini with terrified eyes, ignoring the laughter that the new married couple, Ron Weasley, his fiancée, and Luna Lovegood were giving them; all those little girls scared he was going to curse them.

"Zabini—"

"And yes, I know about it! _I was there_!" He added, cutting off Luna before she could complete her sentence as he picked up his fork from the tabletop. "…Bloody Gryffindors with their gossiping...can't see they're here...have to whisper... can't just bloody ask...Courageous my ass," the dark wizard broke into incoherent whispers, stabbing his steak as he cursed.

Having been standing behind Draco Malfoy throughout his best friend's entire crazed ramble, Hermione Granger asked, "what's wrong with Blaise?" as she lowered herself onto the bench next to her fiancée; placing a small kiss on his right cheek and ignoring the gags Ron and Harry made.

"What _isn't_ wrong with Zabini?" Ginny interjected before Malfoy could answer, grimacing in disgust as the dark-skinned Slytherin gave up on using his silverware and began to rip his steak by hand. Sending chunks of meat and bones at the redhead and everyone else as he devoured his meal like a common barbarian.

Taking Ginny Potter's interruption to settle the pink flush that was invading his cheeks, Draco gave a small smile at his fiancée; slipping his hand cleverly sneaky to hers underneath the table and giving it a squeeze. (For the great Salazar, what is happening to him?)

"It so happens that you and Pansy were correct, Hermione," Malfoy began, trying not to let Weasley's surprised face interfere with his story. "Apparently Cho Chang went into some rage when Blaise sent her their engagement ring through owl for Christmas. She never replied to the letter, but accepted seeing as she didn't want the Ministry nosing about with her wedding plans. But once Zabini returned to Hogwarts, he had to pull a mission to get out of that chamber alive."

"Ah, so that's why Cho was screaming her Nargles off?" Luna said lightly, staring at Blaise with bright eyes.

The Slytherin grumbled a curse word, calling her crazy, and stabbed his potato without looking up.

"I told you!" Pansy threw a fork at her fellow Slytherin, not caring for his apparent shame. "Didn't I tell you that the ruddy Ravenclaw wasn't going to be okay with getting proposed that way? But, of course, you never listen to me."

"…Shut it, Pans," Blaise mumbled, sliding the fork away from him. "What was I supposed to do? I mean, it's not like I ...We're friends, mind you, but not enough for me...Why does _your_ lot have to be bloody sexist!" He looked up from his plate, glaring and frowning deeply at Ginny, Hermione, Pansy and Luna.

The girls raised their eyebrows, frowns slowly appearing on their faces. (Well, except for Luna's who was a little too focused on the streak of sauce above his nose.)

"Excuse us?" Ginny narrowed her brown eyes angrily at the boy.

"Yeah, you heard me, Potter," Blaise ignored the satisfied smirk on her face that suddenly appeared and continued with his hissy fit. "Why is it that you lot couldn't propose to us? It's not that strange to kneel down in one leg and ask a bloke a simple question — but _no_! Instead you add all this pressure on us, telling us it has to be perfect, that it's what every girl dreams of, it's how you imagined it would be— no, we _have_ to wait to have sex until the wedding night!" The group of Gryffindors paying attention to his shouting, so rudely of them by the way, stared at him as he began to turn red in the face. "Why can't I breathe?" He shouted, pulling on the collar of his shirt and loosing up his tie.

He started puffing for air, no one moving to do anything as he tugged and tugged on his tie.

And feeling ever so sympathetic for the boy, Luna stood from her seat on the table. "Keep calm, Zabini," she moved to stand behind him, rubbing soothing circles on his back. "Breathe, breathe. You're just overwhelming yourself. You'll be fine, just breathe."

Hermione had to slap a palm over her mouth to keep her from laughing as Blaise lifted himself from his seat and hugged Luna tightly by the waist, almost towering over her as he dropped his head on the crook of her neck and mumbled things that could not be understood.

"There, there." The blonde Ravenclaw continued to rub his back, looking at Harry and the others with solemn eyes, her gaze contradicting with their very bemused expressions. "Shhh, it's okay."

"…How does she do that?" Pansy asked, raising an eyebrow at the scene before her.

"I think it's the soothing voice, Pans," Ron replied to his fiancée, throwing an arm around her shoulders as they both watched the Slytherin and the Ravenclaw interact in such an odd manner. "Is - Is he crying?" He then said after a moment of silence, expression bewildered as he turned to the others.

But before anyone could add to Blaise Zabini's embarrassment, three Gryffindors approached the table looking quite happy on their faces.

"Hello, mates!" Seamus Finnegan exclaimed loudly, his arm draped around a dirty-blonde's waist. "Guess what?" His voice rang louder, causing a fit of giggles to leave from the girl next to him.

Pansy was about to open her mouth to say something insulting when, "We're getting married!" escaped from Lavender's mouth.

"What?" Everyone questioned, staring at the overjoyed faces of Lavender Brown and Seamus. (Had hell frozen over during the holidays and no one let the rest of them know?)

"I thought — well, _we _thought you two were going to let the Ministry set the date for you guys." The Boy-Who-Lived extended his arm over the table, his hand grabbing onto Seamus' and shaking it in a congratulating manner. "Congratulations, mate!"

There were other voices that repeated what Harry had, other faces looking equally as happy for their fellow Gryffindors as the apparently new-engaged couple pressed their sides tighter together.

"Wow, Lavender, what happened?" Hermione asked excitedly as she and Ginny smiled at the girl, no doubt remembering all the fits of rage she put herself through when it came to her chosen fiancée. "You didn't use the Unforgivable, right?"

"No," Lavender laughed teasingly, "we just spent the holidays together." She paused to smile hugely as Seamus let his arm slip from her waist to intertwined his fingers with hers, "and we got to talking about everything. And, well, one thing led to another and he asked!" She raised her right hand and flashed the gold engagement ring at them.

But behind them, tossed aside like if she was invisible, a blonde witch cleared her throat to make herself noticed. "And when's the part where you tell him you were unfaithful?" The happiness that had seemed to spread throughout the Gryffindors for Seamus and Lavender halted it self; all eyes turned to face the darkened blue of Luna Lovegood's.

"What are you on about, Lovegood?" Seamus was the first to speak, taking a few steps towards the Ravenclaw with a deep frown on his face, looking instantly annoyed by the airy girl. Not even realizing for a second the look of panic that Dean Thomas gave him; alongside Lavender.

She crossed her arms, looking at the Irish Gryffindor with an unnerving look on her pale face that was so unlike her. "I just assumed," Luna began, unmoved as Zabini gave her arm a tug, trying to get her to relax as the fury burned on her face, "that a marriage was founded on trust and loyalty. Meaning that Lavender told you about her affair."

Ginny gaped at her best friend, knowing that the ferocity building up in her sockets was the cue for igniting tears that will soon spill.

"You're insane, Luna." Lavender frowned at the blonde girl, pushing her fiancée away from her. "She's gone mental, Seamus, don't listen to her," she retaliated, trying to stand her ground, acting like it wasn't shaking beneath her feet.

"…Mental, am I?" Luna let out an uncharacteristic hiss, shoving Blaise away as he attempted to restrain her. "So, I was mental when I went into my chamber those weeks ago and I found you and Dean in a very compromising situation?" The Ravenclaw ignored the gasps that broke out from the table or Malfoy's 'I told you so' as she approached Lavender. "Tell me, Lav, was I mental when I saw you in nothing but a towel and my fiancée was as good as naked?"

"Luna—"

"_I'm not talking to you_!" The blonde girl shouted at Dean, her angry tears finally rolling down her white cheeks exactly like Ginny had suspected.

"It was nothing!" Lavender defended, aware that a few professors from the staff table were now tuning in to the argument in the middle of the Great Hall. "Dean, tell her it was nothing!"

"Luna, please. Listen to me, okay? I can—"Dean attempted to walk to her, to talk to her, to get her to listen, but Seamus got in the way. "…Seamus, come on, mate. Look, I - _we _- can explain, alright? It was nothing, I swear it. Nothing happened."

Another round of gasps irrupted from the Great Hall, and this time from the other eavesdropping tables as well that were now suddenly aware of everything that was going on; something happened that caused Dean Thomas to look distraught in just a millisecond and had Harry and Ginny Potter standing quickly from their seats.

Luna Lovegood, sweet, nice, caring, and pure, had just grabbed Blaise Zabini by the collar of his shirt and pressed her lips harshly on to his.

"There," she snapped as she pulled away from the Slytherin, leaving him looking very confused and swaying on his feet, "it was nothing!" She hissed at her fiancée and began to run out from the Great Hall, tears falling endlessly as she did.

"Damnit!" Ginny snarled, jumping out of the bench. "You better hope I don't find you alone, Dean, or I'll make you regret crossing my path!" She threatened, running after her friend as Pansy and Hermione joined her in mid-sprint.

"Wow. Quite the show you Gryffindors know how to put on, eh, Thomas?" Malfoy smirked at the wizard, looking at him and Lavender with amused eyes as the Irish Gryffindor stalked away from them; both of them completely frozen to even move or follow pursuit after Seamus.

"Tell me about it," Blaise huffed as Harry and Ron both aimed a death-glare at Dean, a leer on his face as he looked smugly at Draco. "She took my gum."

** X**

Hermione Granger was sitting on her bed with a lot of candles surrounding the corners of her chamber, all of them illuminating her face with their little smidge of light. Her brown curls hung into a loose ponytail, a few curls dripping from the sides and gracing her pale face. Her expression was in a rather aggressive thinking-stage, almost as if her eyebrows were knitted together permanently as she looked in complete concentration. She had her thick copy of Charms: Year Seven sprawled open on her lap, covering most of the red pajama-shorts she was wearing.

"_Flagrate_," she whispered, pointing the tip of the wand held loosely on her left hand forward. "_Flagrate_," she repeated again in a soft voice, casting a few red sparks from her wand. "_Flagrate_," she hissed this time, gripping her wand with a bit more force than she was doing the previous time. "Fla—"

"Hermione," Draco Malfoy tossed from his side of the bed, turning to face his fiancée with a sleepy expression and body wrapped tightly around metallic-colored sheets, "what are you doing?"

"Practicing," she huffed, dropping her wand on top of her Charms book and proceeded to read a passage from the book intently.

"Obviously, I've been hearing you for the past hour," he grunted, rubbing his eyelids. "But the question is why are you practicing that spell? It's a charm we learned ages ago," he said, lifting himself up with an elbow and looking at the open pages of her book.

Frowning at his tone—a tone that was suggesting that she was stupid—Hermione snapped her book close, "it's a review, Draco."

"You're a war hero, " her fiancée repeated with her same annoyed voice, but tossing her a smirk, "you've done every spell imaginable. Why must you try and rub it in our faces that you are better than us?"

She crossed her arms, trying to push her late night irritation aside. "I haven't done every spell, _dear_. I'm sure I have never done, nor do I intend to cast any Unforgivable Curses at anyone." She returned his leer, receiving a wide grin from the Slytherin as she managed to imitate his smirk perfectly. "Besides, I'm not trying to prove that I'm better than you, I already know that I am." She lifted her wand and smacked him on the head with it.

He winced, pulling her wand from her grip, earning a hissed curse from the Brightest Witch of the Age. "You've got a bit of arrogance in you, have I ever mentioned that?"

"Once," she said, reaching over for her wand, "now give it." Her voice came out in a low warning tone, her eyes squinting as Draco scooted himself a few centimeters away from her; her wand still held tightly in the air with his bare arm stretched towards the ceiling.

He smirked and she glared, all humor pushed aside.

"Malfoy—"

"Ah, ah, ah, Hermione," Draco shook his blonde hair, pulling himself up into a sitting position, never lowering his arm an inch as he did, "it's Draco, remember? D-R-A-C-O." He batted his lashes at her mockingly. "I thought we left the surname use in the old days. You know, back when we were children?"

"It was yesterday, _D-R-A-C-O_!" She snapped, copying the use of spelling his name letter by letter. "And you're still a child, so don't grace yourself with the lack of an honest compliment."

He frowned at her. "I am not!" He retorted, waving the wand in the air.

"Really?" She snorted.

He coughed, composure seeping into his expression. "Point taken," he threw her the wand, taking advantage as she leaped for her holy-stick to jump on her. He smoothly captured her between the mattress they shared and the feel of his warm, bare chest. "I am a child."

Taken aback—really, really, _really _aback—Hermione peered up at the blonde through her eyelashes. Her breath catching in the back of her throat, barely making it circle down to her lungs were it was seriously needed as she dropped her wand onto the marbled floor; everything else blanked out from her head but those glittering silver eyes of his.

"…S-so," she cleared her throat, pushing the clogging oxygen away as she tried to find her courage and control, "the tables have turned, I see. Apparently the once-annoying Gryffindor is the mature one from our lot then. Not that it's surprising, mind you, considering that you're a bratty boy, but still."

"You seem to be missing something, Hermione," Draco placed a finger on top of her moving lips, shutting her up completely as her eyes met in the middle and looked at his finger, " and that's that you're still that annoyingly mature Gryffindor, but you're _my_ annoying Gryffindor."

Again, her oxygen got stuck, not moving, not doing bloody anything as her eyes practically popped out. "…How charming," she croaked, the blush running to her cheeks from his action and words.

"And now you have seem to have forgotten that I am very charming," he laughed, lowering his head and resting it on her chest, right above her heart.

Slowly, Hermione raised one of her eyebrows with confusion, looking down at the boy laying on top of her with a peaceful expression looking like there was no care in the world for him in that very moment.

The same boy who had tortured her for six years without any mercy, who wanted her dead more desperately than he wanted Harry Potter dead, his arch-nemesis, even if his side during the war was working hard to achieve that. He had spent years reminding her that her 'kind' was nothing and they will never be greater. That him, along with so many ignorant Purebloods, were the best thing that happened to the world, Magical and non-Magical. Countless were the times when she had to grit her teeth, ignore the shattering self-esteem, hold back the tears when he called her a Mudblood. Her blood was as dirty as they came, he had said so may times after all, saying that he would never touch her even with a twelve-foot cauldron mixer.

But now, now he laid perfectly still on top of her, snuggled deeply on her chest; his left arm draped over her waist. His fingers playing with the hem of her shirt with gentleness, a touch so simple that sent shivers up her spine.

(Oh, dear Merlin, no! Absolutely no, no, no, no, no, no!)

Her brown eyes looked at Malfoy's pale, pointed face with a look beyond fear spreading on her expression, terror gripping her prisoner from everywhere—from inside her, from outside, from the tip of her head to her toes, from everywhere.

"…I've been thinking, Hermione," Draco whispered, his eyes closed as he heard the rhythm of her heart, "about the wedding, I mean."

She gulped, pushing the pressure down her throat as her eyes were still wide with shock and complete horror. "…A-and?" She muttered back.

"How would you feel about a summer wedding?" He asked, fascinated with the _thump, thump_ of her heart that he didn't realize the things he was saying. "I just assume it'd be easier for you since the final exams will be done by then, and nothing can possibly interfere with your studying in the springtime. I know that whole learning rubbish is important to you and all, and we could, you know, erm, study together and attend your friends weddings, and then worry about ours last."

She was silent for a second, formulating plans of escape in her head that were being silenced and forgotten by every word that was coming out of his mouth. "…You're thinking about accommodating me, Draco?" She asked surprised by his decision, or the thoughts of her needs crossing his selfish mind first.

He shrugged on top of her. "I just want you to be happy, that's all."

_ Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump._

"Thank you," she whispered after a short pause.

She stretched her fingers to the bottom of his chin, caressing the soft skin there. Tracing another long finger to his pale cheek and enjoying the soft feel of him. Sensing, and realizing for what seemed like the first time, that he was human. That he was soft, warm and whole. Something that she never took notice of before.

"Draco?" Her touch on his face shook, the fear was spreading faster throughout her body that her heart rate picked up, making the Slytherin lift himself off her chest and look at her with confusion from sudden rush taking over her.

Taking the chance that he lifted his head from her chest, Hermione pulled on his chin; directing him up towards her face with her slender fingers. And once their eyes locked, in that manner that only Draco Malfoy is equipped with to penetrate right through her, she let the fear overwhelm her, accepting it as she pressed her lips gently onto his.

(She was screwed now_—screwed_!)

She just moved her lips with him, together in perfect sync. She couldn't help but feel many emotions soar through her, following the thick blood running through her veins in an excitement and a thrill. And yet as all those feelings and thoughts rummaged through her head, all that seemed to exist for that moment was the feel of her ex archenemy's lips on hers and how soft he moved them against hers. A gentle side of him that she can't seem to get used to.

Her eyes shut together tightly in surprise as his warm hand found her thigh, sending tingles all over her skin. She had to fight, fight with herself to let an unknown feeling takeover her as electrical currents ran up her spine, sending tingles to the flesh that Draco was currently touching as he hoisted her leg over his waist in a swift movement. She had to shut the voices in her head and keep on letting his fingertips trace the skin of her thigh in a light caress, climbing higher and higher, centimeter by centimeter.

And for him there was something else, something else that wasn't necessarily a fight or a struggle. It was a surrender. It was him giving up to a wave of something he'd never known, of this feeling filling him up with an emotion that was far from urge and need but with something pure. Something that made him want to hold her tight, and that's it. Just to hold her tight, to feel her in his arms is what he was craving.

_ Knock. Knock. Knock._

Just in time—like a holy interruption for the two confused Hogwarts students—a banging on their outside door sounded around their quiet chamber.

Slowly removing her mouth from Draco's, Hermione looked at him with a deep pink flush on her face. "….We, erm.. we better answer that."

"I rather we not," he whispered, pushing away those loose strands of hair from her face. "Can't we just...stay here? Pretend like we don't hear it?"

_ Knock. Knock. Knock._

Hermione gave a small giggle, her fingers suddenly intertwining into his blonde hair as she looked at him with soft, almost adoring eyes. "It's a bit hard to ignore it, Draco. Besides," she patted his back with her free palm, "it might be McGonagall. After the drama Lavender and Dean managed to get themselves in, I heard Professor Sprout saying they will be checking in on each chamber just to verify that everyone is with their correct spouse."

Groaning, not so sure why he was disappointed, Malfoy jumped off of his fiancée's warm body. "I now feel terribly sorry for Lovegood. She really is trapped with Thomas. Poor witch."

"Don't feel so bad for her," Hermione took Draco's extending hand, letting him pull her up from their mattress with a smile of gratitude on her face, "Luna seems to be controlling the situation fairly well."

He snorted. "She snogged Blaise!" The Slytherin pointed out, lacing his fingers with hers. "Is that considered controlling the situation? She's got more problems in that loony head of hers once Chang finds out she's been kissing her fiancée for revenge."

"Or maybe," Hermione lifted a free finger in the air, crossing the door of the bedroom with her fiancée and stepping to the living room of her chamber, "Luna provided Cho with some insight that her fiancée is faithful to the core, no matter how thick he is, and he cares enough not to do anything stupid and rash with Luna because of her hurt feelings."

"Yeah, well, Zabini has never been a good Slytherin before." He scoffed, his fingers slowly slipping from hers, so unwillingly, as she went for the handle of the door.

Hermione laughed, "what even makes a good—" Draco watched as Hermione stopped in the middle of her comment, the door flying open. "_You_?"

"Good evening to you too, Miss Granger."

Hermione wobbled back, her eyes opened wide in surprise.

"How are you?"

"—Viktor!" The Slytherin glared, a sense of uncontrollable anger rising deep inside his chest as he watched his Gryffindor squeal and leap forward to the tall wizard standing outside of their Chamber.

"Hermione!" Viktor Krum, the famous Seeker for the Bulgarian Quidditch team, wrapped his muscular arms around her petite waist. Pulling her off her feet and clutching on to her with a huge grin on his face like he'd never seen her before.

Draco's pale palms contracted into fists.

"What are you doing here?" Her voice was still filled with excitement as he lowered her down, his hands now holding on to hers. "I imagined you far away in Bulgaria, training like a mad man now that you have all that free time in the world. You know, no school to come in between you and your career."

"I've come to talk to the Minister of Magic of your country, I have some questions about this new law he passed." He smiled happily at her. "I asked for some special permission to come and see you. I hope you don't mind, it has been years since I last saw you."

"Yeah, since Fleur and Bill's wedding," Hermione nodded, remembering the time Ron, out of pure jealousy, ripped her away from the Bulgarian. (Not that she minded at the moment. She was positive that she had some feelings for her redhead best friend in those times.) "Wow, that was so long ago, Viktor."

He nodded, looking a little saddened by the fact. "Do you mind if we take a walk to the grounds—or the library. I like thinking back to old times." He patted her cheek in a friendly manner, looking quite caring.

"Of course!" Hermione spun herself to reach for the door handle when she noticed her fiancée throwing daggers at her. She recognized the anger boiling in his face, his silvery eyes turning into a molten metallic shade whenever he grew infuriated, a sign she has seen so many times before on his handsome face. "Erm, hey, um, Draco, do you think I could go with Viktor for a bit?"

Ignoring the fact that she was asking him permission to leave the chamber—especially with that phony as crap Bulgarian—Draco tightened his fist even more, able to feel the bones of his knuckles press against his flesh roughly. "Of course, Hermione," he said through a controlled interior, " I'll just be waiting for you...in bed when you come back."

"You're Draco Malfoy, right?" Viktor asked before Hermione stepped out of the door.

"Yes, I'm her fiancée," he enunciated the last word specifically. "I hope we'll be seeing you in our wedding, Krum. If you plan to stick around, that is." His infamous leer spread on his malicious face.

Grabbing Hermione's hand gently, a delightful smile on his deep expression, Viktor Krum said, "I'll be honored," and then he pushed himself and the brunette out the chamber without a look back.

"…No, the honor will be mine," Malfoy hissed, his fury burning into deeper levels of insanity.

_ For the great Slytherin, Draco, control yourself!_ He shouted in his head, glaring at the open door with all his might. _What is your bloody problem? Let the damned Gryffindor have a couple of friends. She'll need them once you're done with—No, no! She's _yours_! Why the hell would you let some Bulgarian idiot come into your chamber and take her away? She _is _yours—that's your ring on her finger! Claim her back! You've never been..._

Oh, bloody hell.

Draco loosened his fist, letting the blood circulate back to his fingers. Shock spread throughout his entire body as his anger was replaced with something else.

"Was that just Viktor Krum?" Standing at the entrance of his chamber, Blaise Zabini, wrapped around an emerald blanket, looked outside; staring at the two retreating figures that now looked like spots of shadows on the corridor floor.

The Slytherin didn't seem to hear a word that was coming out of his friend's mouth, and was instead focused on a realization that just emerged into his head.

Fuck, fuck, fuck—_fuck_.

Draco Malfoy was in love with Hermione Granger. (Oh, yes, for all the fucks of the fucks up in the fucking sky, he was.)

"Humph, bloody intruders, mate, I'm telling you," Blaise scoffed as he headed towards the only room in the chamber, dragging his blanket with him.


	20. Living in Movie material

**Chapter Twenty**

She couldn't really move her feet, couldn't even really move her legs—so it was no surprise why Parvati and Padma Patil were practically dragging her towards the door of their next class.

They said nothing, the twins. They respected the silence that the girl was in, even if they really didn't agree with it; even if they were dying to talk about the biggest rumor to hit the walls of Hogwarts since the mutters that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was back.

And just as they crossed into the door, Parvati and Padma let go of Lavender's arms. Leaving her as her eyes focused on a sandy-haired boy on the table a few feet away from her.

She cleared her throat, taking a second to inhale as much air and courage, and then took a step to him. "Um, Seamus, can we—"

"Shove off, Lavender," before the dirty-blonde Gryffindor could get her full sentence out, Seamus Finnegan growled from the deepest pit of anger inside of him. His brown eyes glared roughly at her, almost in hope that she would combust into ashes by just his stare and he'd be spared from all the muttering and staring going around at Hogwarts.

Lavender bit her lip, her eyes watering as the rest of the nearby Gryffindors gave her uneasy stares as she stood her ground, her feet placed determinedly on the marbled floor of the classroom. "…Look, Seamus, if you would let me explain everything, I-I promise….What Luna said—"

"Don't you dare," Seamus interrupted her again, standing from the table and shooting daggers at his fiancée; feeling outraged. "Don't you _dare_ insult Luna, Lavender. Years you spent going on and on with Parvati about the things Luna says and labeling her as a lunatic, but honestly, that lunatic is a better person than you will ever be."

A few of the couples overhearing the conversation nodded their heads in agreement.

"She had the decency to inform me that my best mate and my fiancée," Seamus continued, "liked to give it some goes while no one was watching. She opened my eyes about you."

Lavender shook her head, her blondish hair flying all around her; strands sticking to her cheeks as she cried thick tears. "Luna is lying!" She shouted. "She didn't see anything! Whatever she said that day was all a load of rubbish! I never did anything with Dean!"

Seamus scoffed in such an infuriated and mocking manner that a few Slytherins had to smirk at that. (These damn Gryffindors were turning out to be as conniving as they were, and that was something to say. They were definitely impressed.) "So, you're telling me that Lovegood imagined Dean half naked?"

"He wasn't naked, Seamus! Dean was—he had pants on." A few girls around groaned as they shook their heads at the Gryffindor witch. (Bad idea, Lav. Bad idea.)

"And you weren't in a towel?" The boy's voice was filled with more acid, the thoughts of his best mate with the girl he had come to fancy—long forgotten about that Ravenclaw he deeply wanted—together in a chamber was starting to cause an irruption in his chest. "You're saying that Lovegood just pictured you coming out of her room in a towel for the fun of it? "

Lavender waited a few seconds, swallowing a knot of pressure. "…Okay, so I was in a towel, but I had just come out of the shower, Seamus!"

"Why were you taking a shower in Dean's chamber?" Seamus banged his fist on the table in front of him, startling some of the eavesdroppers by his anger. "Why were you there at all? There's a reason why the Ministry assigned separate chambers for every couple! So some ditzy wench like you couldn't go jumping from chamber to chamber!"

There was an intake of breaths, all echoing around together in unison. A few Slytherins laughed mockingly in hush tones, amusement on their faces, and some even daring to shout a cheer for the Gryffindor wizard. (This drama was getting better and better.)

"Seamus," having enough of the insults and shouts, Parvati Patil stood from her table, Gregory Goyle reaching for her sleeve as anger was written on her tanned face, "you cannot speak to her that way! Regardless of what happened, she is still a girl. And unless your mother forgot to teach you manners, you don't insult a girl that way!"

"Goyle, handle your witch." Pansy Parkinson, hand in hand with Ron Weasley, entered the classroom, a smirk of interest on her face as she heard Seamus shouting from outside where she was trying to have a peaceful snogging session with her fiancée. (But they'd been so rudely interrupted by the latest of the drama-filled couple that she'd no choice but to come inside and forget the way Ron's tongue tasted like pumpkin pasties.) "She needs to learn not to get involved in other peoples business, and I suggest you show her."

As the dark-haired Slytherin aimed her a smirk, Pavarti narrowed her eyes instantly. "Look, you cow—"

"Parvati, shut your mouth," Goyle snapped, pulling her back down to the chair.

He watched with a bit of pride as his fiancée gawked at him with bewildered eyes. (Had Goyle just screamed at her?)

"Yes, Greg," Parvati nodded, her anger flying away as she looked down at the table with surprise and obedience. (Dear Merlin, had she _liked _it too?)

Clearing his throat, feeling very uncomfortable at the sight of his ex-girlfriend shedding thick tears and looking so miserable, Ron said, "ease up there, mate. Parvati's right, you know? You can't be getting so mad at Lavender without giving her a chance to explain. Has it ever occurred to you that maybe she didn't do anything?"

"That's easy for you to say right, Weasley?" Seamus huffed, unmoved by the silent sobbing that was coming from Lavender or the pitying looks people were giving her. (She was wrong here, not him!) "But tell me this, mate, did you two just ever snog? Because I find it quite daunting that being together for so long, and always being found at each others mouths, that you two only snogged," he frowned, "forgive me if I'm a bit skeptical here. "

Ron turned red in the ears, aware that the eavesdroppers were now at the edge of their seats, more intrigued now as the past of his old relationship was brought on to the table.

Pansy shot him a glare, letting go of his hand and crossing her arms heatedly. (Oh, this she wanted to hear.)

"What—what happened with me and Lavender is in the past, Seamus," Ron spoke after a moment, trying to choose the correct words so his fiancée wouldn't blow up on him later, "and it has nothing to do with what's going on now."

"Exactly." Seamus dropped himself back on his chair, now looking indifferent. "What's happening between her and I is nothing of your concern, Weasley. So stay out of it."

Ron looked at Pansy; the latter shrugged, took his hand, and led him away from the table and the drama just as more was entering the door.

"Luna, please." In a blur, a blonde girl burst through the door of the classroom looking, if it was possible to say, like hell.

Her usual straight hair was very frizzy and tied to a bouncy bun, her normal bright eyes were surrounded by a rim of red, and the condition of her usually white skin could be described as clammy and rather sickening to look at.

"Luna, come on."

"…Oh, I know he isn't trying to talk to her," agirl whispered somewhere behind all the new commotion. "After what he did, that boy has nerve."

On her way to the furthest table, Luna was suddenly halted by Dean Thomas' fingers around her arm. "…Stop," Luna breathed, "let go."

Dean's fingers loosened, but he did not let go. "…Luna, please. _Please_."

"Come on, Dean," Harry and Ginny Potter, followed by Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger, appeared inside of the classroom a moment after. "Let her go." The savior of the Wizarding World had his wand stretched forward, directing it on his fellow Gryffindor's back. "Although it would bother me greatly, Dean, I won't hesitate to hex you."

"—Alright, alright." Professor Sprout emerged into the room, looking at the students with strict eyes. "Settle down now. Everyone with their respective partners, no more of this hectic nonsense, understood?" She frowned as Luna Lovegood ripped her arm away from Dean's hold and proceeded to the furthest table.

Luna scooted her chair to the very edge of the table as her fiancée went to join her. "Miss Brown, take a seat," the teacher said at once, pointing a finger at the empty chair next to Seamus.

Entering at the right moment, fashionably late like he was used to, Blaise Zabini grinned amusedly as he headed for his seat next to Cho Chang. "You know something, mate, what's going on here will make a great storyline for a Muggle movie," he whispered to Draco, who sat on the table next to him. "We've got cheaters, lunatics, crying witches, _angry_ witches," he gave Cho a mocking sneer as she glared roughly at him, "backstabbing best mates, sex scandals, and the Boy-Who-Lived! It practically writes itself!"

"Settle down, children. Settle down," the professor huffed, trying to silence the laughter the two Slytherins were making. "Today we'll be learning about the importance of family. What you get out of it and how to handle stressful situations when the family is under critical emotional stress." Her uncommon frown was cast away by her perky smile. "Before we get into today's lecture, I've an announcement for you lot."

The silence was almost immediate, worry on their faces. (Now what were they going to demand of them?)

"The Minister has conducted a meeting with the Headmistress regarding the new numbers of the wizarding population," she finished, taking a seat at her desk.

"Were the numbers true?" Hermione raised her hand high in the air, no one bothering to look up or strain themselves in asking, knowing that the Brightest Witch was bound to ask the important questions sooner or later.

Professor Sprout nodded solemnly. "Oh, yes, Miss Granger, they were in fact true. We've lost more than half of our population, and the fear of the Squib era is already starting to cause havoc with the Ministry." She sighed, her gray hair shaking as she did. "Seeing as most of you, like the good lads I've been teaching for years, sent the dates of your weddings already, the Ministry has provided a new deadline you all are to complete."

"Which is...?" Pansy raised her eyebrow, crossing her arms over her chest; getting impatient at the theatrics the Herbology teacher was giving.

Ignoring the insolent girl, the professor looked at Hermione as if she'd been the one to ask the question. "Once you all have consummated the special bond of Marriage, you have three years from the day of your wedding to.…" she cleared her throat, now looking uneasy, "produce heirs."

And just like at a snap of the fingers, Hermione began to choke on her oxygen; bending over slightly as she felt her saliva growing thick inside her mouth. "W-What?" She gasped, Malfoy patting her back as she continued to heave; a blank look on his pale face as his fiancée grew more shocked by the second. "You want us to—you want us to have children already?"

Draco kept patting her back.

"Um, yes, dear, I'm afraid so. That's the general idea of the…issued deadline." Professor Sprout gave her a weak smile, aware that the rest of the couples looked as shock as she was but were more paralyzed by the news than Hermione Granger. (Excluding the Potter couple who looked deep in thought.) "The Marriage Law provides a binding magical contract, all of you are aware that this is a must and that it's not something that is negotiable. If you refuse to marry, you must give up your magic. If you refuse to complete the deadlines, same penalty."

Blaise Zabini crossed his legs, turning his body in an angle away from his fiancée as he looked over at her with appalled eyes. "I suddenly feel like I've been sexually harassed."

Cho glared. "Don't worry, Zabini, I don't intend to touch you anytime soon."

"Hermione," Draco whispered, taking the chance as the room broke out in rambles and muttering, "are you okay?" He placed his hand on her leg, looking at her with some concern.

"Oh, don't touch me!" She huffed, slapping his hand away. "This is how it starts, and before I know it I'll be walking down graduation with a watermelon in my womb!"

** X**

"…Are you feeling better?" Draco Malfoy asked his fiancée, his chin resting on top of her head as they both laid on the couch in their living room. (Seeing as Blaise had, yet again, claimed their room as, yet again, Cho Chang kicked him out of their chamber.) Draco found himself on the bottom with the Gryffindor resting on top of him with her head snuggled to his chest. "You were quite the wreck with the news."

Shutting her eyes, Hermione breathed, "how can I not be?" as she listened intently to the rhythm of his heart. "Don't get me wrong, Malfoy, I've come to accept the Marriage Law, with a few kicks and protests, mind you, but this…this is going too far. I mean, children? At our age? Things will complicate themselves before we actually begin to adjust to the married life."

"It can't be that bad, can it?" The blonde Slytherin commented.

"How can you be so sure?" Hermione scoffed, her eyes still shut tight. "Why is it that you, the cowardly ferret, are not afraid of this? How can you just take it so lightly; have you no plans of the future? Wasn't there something you wanted to do that didn't involve changing diapers?"

Draco frowned at the ferret statement, growing angry. "I'm not afraid, _bookworm_," he hissed. (Oh, you can't blame him, can you? In love or not, he is still the Slytherin Prince and demands respect and to be feared!) "…I'll have you by my side," he continued on, "and yes, there are plenty of things I wanted to do, but now I don't have to do them on my own. I'll have a wife, and a child as it seems, that I can make proud when I do succeed in them. And I take it lightly because I _know _you, Hermione. I've seen you with Teddy, and you'll be an excellent mother."

At the confidence in his voice, at the almost sincerity she could detect in his tone, Hermione's eyes opened widely in surprise and astonishment. "You—you actually _want _me to be the mother of your children?" She lifted herself on an elbow, trying not to dig it deep in his lower abdomen as she stared at him in the eye. "….Do you think we can make this work?"

"Granger," he grunted, looking at her in an emotionless state, "I don't have the choice to decide, you'll be it anyway. But, yes, I'm glad that it will be you, because _together_...we can make it work."

The brunette bit her lip, trying to contain the smile that was already spreading; trying not to look like a giddy girl with butterflies exploding inside her stomach. "Promise?" She asked in a small voice, feeling the redness of her cheeks seep in.

Draco nodded his head. "Of course, my Gryffindor. As long as you keep that bloody Bulgarian away from my children, I promise you that."

Hermione raised an eyebrow, her eyes narrowing.

"_What_?" Draco narrowed his eyes too. "I will not have our children calling him 'Uncle Vik'."

Hermione laughed, letting her sudden happiness appear on her face at the bemusement she found in her fiancée's words. "Oh, Malfoy, I _knew _you'd be bound to bring the Viktor subject up."

Malfoy glared more, growing irritated at her beautiful laughter mixing inside of his head and at the casual way she mentioned the latter man. "And there will be no trips to Bulgaria either. Don't think I will have you support their Quidditch team, while we are at it. I will not be paying for their merchandise."

"Of course not," she snorted at his ridiculous comments, pressing her lips on his cheeks softly and teasingly. "I'll be supporting the Holyhead Harpies." She grinned at him, winking in a very un-Hermione way. "Then we will have tickets to see Ginny in action when she joins after Hogwarts, which you'll know _will _happen. Ron and Harry will be cheering along with us in the stands."

The Slytherin groaned in frustration. "Does the rest of the Golden Trio come in this marriage package, because I am willing to let Zabini and Pansy out if you can drop Potter and the Weasel."

Hermione faked a gasp. "How can you say that," she slapped his chest, "we will be visiting every Sunday, and have the Holidays with the Weasleys!"

"No deal!" Draco shouted, tickling her sides and making her laugh harder, in way that wasn't considered polite or girl-like, but he felt it more endearing than anything.

_ Crack._

"Draco, darling—"

"Mother!"

_ THUMP._

"Hermione, are you alright?" Narcissa Malfoy asked, her blue eyes staring at the brunette with worried eyes as she hit the marbled floor roughly.

"Mrs. Malfoy," Hermione squeaked, wincing at the sudden pain her kneecap was giving, "how did you apparate inside the castle?" She allowed her fiancée to help her up in one swift movement; covering up the curse that was threatening to spill out of her mouth in front of the most notable pureblood woman in Britain.

"Beta, dear. She apparated into the chamber, and as soon as my feet touched the ground, she apparated away." She took a step closer to the girl, eyeing her. "Are you sure you're alright, we can take you to the Hospital Wing if you'd like?"

Shaking her brown curls, Hermione tried giving the woman a smile. "No, no," she tried to laugh, but made a mental-note to talk to someone about putting carpet on the damned marbled floor. "Will we be taking the Floo, then?"

Giving a disapproving shake of her head, Narcissa said, "of course, I've got to stop by and pay my greetings to the Headmistress. It will be very rude of me to barge into her castle and not greet her, won't it?" She smiled, reaching forward and pulling Hermione's loose strands of hair behind her ear; a warmth that could be expressed as affection on her face. "Now, why don't you go get Pansy, darling? I owled her yesterday evening and informed her of our outing, she was pleased to be invited. I'm sure she's far from ready and will be pacing up and down her chamber right about now."

"Yes, Narcissa." But before Hermione could head out the door, she placed a chaste kiss on her fiancée's cheek in goodbye. "…see you in the night, Draco," she whispered to him, and limped herself out of the chamber.

Grinning a little smugly at that scene, Draco's mother turned to her son with a little giggle. "She's a brave one, isn't she?"

Watching the Gryffindor limp away, Draco scoffed, "a liar is more like it, mother." He tossed himself on the couch, frowning even after the girl was long gone. "Did you not see her limping? She'll be complaining about her bruise later, I know it." He shook his head in the same disapproving manner his mother had. "Damn her and her Gryffindor pride."

"I'm glad you've come to care for her, Draco," his mother said straightforwardly, her voice not holding an assumption but merely a fact.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, I have to share my life with her, don't I?" He said, swallowing nervously at his mother's profound stare. "I have to be somewhat considerate to her well-being. Imagine how it will look in the _Daily Prophet_ if she happens to die so quickly into our wedding? I'll earn a one-way ticket to Azkaban and be another of the famous Blacks to have joined their imprisonment." Draco shook his head at the idea. "Then I'll be a failure, seeing as I won't be like Auntie Bella or cousin Sirius and escape that hellhole, and I'll die a very lonely death while surrounded by other demented people. All because I couldn't manage to have Granger survive a couple of years."

Narcissa gave it a moment, trying not to let that smirk—the one that Draco had inherited from her, a sort of psychical heirloom passed by generations and generations of Blacks—appear on her pale face. "Are you about done, darling?"

"_No_," her son hissed. "Then Potter and every Weasley imaginable, seeing as there are thousands of them, will come to beat the rubbish out of me in my cell until I'm a rotting corpse. And the Ministry will burn me to ashes and send my remains down a toilet!"

"Are you done _now_?" She asked, watching the boy heave for air, turning red in the face from the spasm he just had.

Draco frowned, took in another deep inhale, and nodded hesitantly at his mother.

"Listen to me, dear—there is nothing wrong about caring for her," she spoke with a tone he did not recognize. "You need to forget everything your father and I ever taught you, Draco. Everything that you heard when you were younger, everything you have experienced.…" She paused as he frowned at her, now looking offended. "I know that I am sounding like a hypocrite and I'm telling you to contradict everything I went for, but darling, love knows no exceptions. Hermione, Muggle-Born or not, is a very beautiful and kind witch. And I will be proud the day that your wedding comes along because I will know that you are happy...That you're going to live a plentiful life."

And paused happen, the boy taking a moment to process the words his mother had just offered.

"…But father?" Was what he chose to say, looking a little putout.

"You leave Lucius to me, Draco," Narcissa's voice was a bit tainted with annoyance. "This isn't about your father, nor is this about me, so do not worry for this is about _you and Hermione._ And the fact that you two will be joining your souls and forever remaining together. I know that the concept of that can be quite daunting, but love of mine, if you care for her...nothing should stop you." She peered down at him, caressing his cheek. Her blue eyes contrasting with his gray.

Not sure on what to say or how to react, Draco cleared his throat a bit uncomfortably once more.

Never in his life has he seen his mother show so much emotion—especially towards someone that wasn't him. Someone that years ago she would've degraded for the lack of pure blood running in her body. But now things were different, and his mother gave her blessing for their union. Not caring if it was forced or by choice, she approved of Hermione Granger. She wanted him—_her_—to be happy with what was coming.

So did that mean that he should let things go then? Evolve to the better person he knows that he is deep inside, to that man he's been trying to repress for many years; to that wizard that Hermione seems to find every time she looks him in the eye? Can he be capable, strong and courageous to let his devious side go to be happy? To start his marriage with love, not end up loathing his wife like so many arranged marriages turn out? The Ministry had said that they were sorted to the people that they were meant to, after all, so all he had to do was embrace it.

To hold the Gryffindor tight in his arms and never let her go.

Just the way he wanted it; just the way he _needed _it.

"I better be off. We won't find any wedding dresses if we keep wasting time," Narcissa broke the silence, running her fingers one last time on her only son's cheek. "And with Pansy accompanying us, I can guarantee you this will be a torture to your fiancée. "

Draco blinked slowly, nodding his head. "Bring her back in one piece, mother," and then he smiled gently at the woman in front of him. "I need her."

Narcissa nodded in reassurance. "I'll bring her back to you, Son, and with a wedding dress so marvelous that she'll have to be the most beautiful bride." She smiled wider. "She won't become a Malfoy and not earn that rightful title, trust me."

"…She doesn't need to be a Malfoy," Draco whispered to himself, opening the door for his mother too cross; watching her exit swiftly with nothing else said to him, "she already is beautiful being who she is."

_ Bang._

"What the—" The blonde Slytherin jumped slightly on his feet, startled by the sudden loud sound echoing around his chamber. "What the blood hell are you doing?"

Bolting out of his best mate's bedroom, Blaise Zabini emerged out in his emerald boxers in a hectic motion; a silver snake, one resembling the one on the Slytherin-crest, was printed on the left side. His dark legs were visible and stood out more as his bright, and glowing white socks reaching to mid-calf contrasted with his skin.

"What am I doing?" He repeated, throwing Draco his used handkerchief. His green eyes glistening with tears. "_What am I doing_?" He said once again, much louder. "Oh, I'll tell you what I'm doing!" He shouted, casting his slippers on his feet.

Draco raised his eyebrow, scowling at the dark boy with a look of disgust at how unclothed he was. "Why are you crying, Zabini?"

"You tell your mother that was the most beautiful speech I have ever heard!" Zabini blubbered, reaching for the door handle. "Now wish me luck, mate, I'm going to get my woman back!"


	21. Two things Snakes dont feel: Hope & Love

**Chapter Twenty-One**

_Boom._

"What in Rowena's—" Cho Chang gave a high jump on her seat on the couch. Her books and parchment of notes spilled to the side as the door to her chamber burst open. "Zabini, you foul git, what in Ravenclaw's name do you think you're doing?" She snapped, reaching for her wand that was tucked in under the cushions.

She stared at the figure of her fiancée—by Merlin's _cruel, cruel_ joke—with aggressive eyes. Her eyebrow couldn't help to raise itself as she noticed his lack of robes, shirt, and pants. The ruddy Slytherin was just in emerald boxers with bright white socks on—items that could be interpreted as stockings.

"Don't you 'foul git' me, Chang!" Blaise shouted, slamming the door behind him with a swift back-kick of his leg. "I've come to talk!" (Whoever told Blaise that yelling was the means in 'getting back his woman' were surely ruddy trolls.)

"I don't want to talk to you, Zabini," Cho retorted, folding her arms across her chest in a way that she prayed looked intimidating. (She wasn't a Gryffindor or a Slytherin to be pulling off those stares and furious stands like Ginny or those terrifying ones like Pansy Parkinson. She had to work with what she had, and Merlin knew that Ravenclaws were not horrifying at all. They were just a pack of birds.)

"Well, you're going to have to listen because I'm tired of this," Blaise took a furious step towards his fiancée, his slippers practically sliding on the marbled ground. "We _need _to establish a truce, alright? I cannot be getting kicked out of _our _bloody chamber every other day! Now, my mummy taught me better than that, but if it comes to violence, don't think I won't hesitate to unleash Pansy on you," he threatened, his green eyes on her wand.

Cho glared, her wand a little higher on his face. "A truce," she repeated with a loud scoff, feeling a bit of pride as his eyes looked momentarily panicked as they focused on the illuminating tip and her firm grip. "I can't create a truce with an imbecile like you!_ You ruin everything._ Not a day goes by in which your stupid actions don't urge me on to give up my magic."

Blaise exhaled through his nostrils, trying to regain that calmness that comes naturally to every Italian he knew. (And if it worked, maybe she would end up kissing his knuckles like the Muggles did to the Pope.) "Look Cho," his voice dropped several levels of volume as he spoke to her once again, "I'm aware that I'm a sodding idiot, and I will probably do more idiotic things when we do get married, but that's just the way I am. I'm this eccentric handsome, handsome, boy—" (no, it's not a typo. Blaise is aware that he is really handsome)",who can charm the entire planet, but will most likely end up getting himself murdered because he's an uncontrollable, outspoken, energetic prat." He took another cautious step towards her, slowly moving his palm to circle around her exposed forearm. "But one thing is certain: when I care about someone I'm more of an idiot than I naturally am in public. "

Cho took in a ragged breath, letting his dark fingers clutch on to her arm as she lowered her wand. "Have you noticed that you called yourself an idiot loads of times? Not that I disagree, mind you, but you keep going around in circles." And if she had been a Slytherin or a Gryffindor, chances are she wouldn't have understood what her fiancée was trying to say.

And that was that he cared for her. She _knew _he did. It was something that she couldn't deny.

"Because I'm cute that way!" He stated loudly. (Was his adorableness not noticeable? He can't even stare at his own reflection without blushing for Salazar's sake! How can the witch be immune to it?)

But he sighed, taking a moment to breathe and compose himself before the witch changed her mind and he got cursed. "Listen Cho," he began with his new maturity, "what I'm basically trying to say is that I'm always going to do the thickest things imaginable and that's never going to change in time. In fact, I will probably end up blasting half of our home apart just for the fun of it. But the point is...I _do _love you.

"And the reason why I take the liberty to joke around with you— in such an impolite manner, according to _you_—is because I've gotten accustom to you. And I don't need to impress you...because I want you to care for me for who I am...just like I do with you."

Cho cleared her throat after a moment of silence as she let this words linger in the air. "Well," she murmured, "in these past months that we've been engaged...I have experienced more genuine emotions than I've done for the past four years." She swallowed, looking down at the marbled floor. "Emotions that aren't always centered on me breaking down to tears, and I greatly appreciate that, Blaise. And I've learned to love that about you, but you can't expect for someone like me not to react the way I do."

Blaise sighed, nodding his head in understanding. "….I know that if the events that happened our Fourth Year," he felt her flinch and he placed his left palm on her other arm. Giving her a supporting squeeze as flashbacks of that year started replaying in back of her head. "If the Tri-Wizard Tournament would've never happened, the entire school is not oblivious that you and Diggory would've ended up getting married and having the perfect life." He waited a few seconds and then said, "Nor Potter, Michael Corner, or I could ever replace what Diggory meant to you. And I'm well aware of that...but I'm just trying to humor your life up a bit...You can't keep living in the past where your dead boyfriend is buried..."

The Ravenclaw's bottom lip quivered and she had to sink her front teeth into it just to stop the powerful feelings from flooding out and breaking down the barriers that had taken her years to build. "….I have been a l-little harsh, haven't I?"

Blaise's serious face faded into a light smile. One that Cho couldn't even deny that brightened up his entire expression immensely. "_A little_? Oh, Chang, you've made me look like a bloody fool! I think I have lost respect among my fellow house-mates. And, apparently, Goyle is second in command now." He gave her arms another squeeze and then pushed his body to press up onto hers. Placing his chin on her dark hair. He began to rub circles on her back with one palm, and the other securely on her waist.

Cho tried not to recoil, tried not to step back from the human contact she felt the need to deprive herself from.

"…We might not be the traditional couple, Cho, but I do believe that there's a strong motive why we were placed together," Zabini said in a whisper, "and it might take us a while to figure it out—"

"In between fights and you sleeping on the couch?" She gave a shaky laugh, her face buried in his chest as she interrupted him. A strange feeling of comfort and warmth spreading throughout her soul. Almost like if this was actually right and things would turn out for the better; that feeling invading her being.

She knew that Zabini was tossed to her to show her the meaning of life once again. So she could be able to smile and laugh the way she used to. And once she achieved that, it would be because of him. And the day would come when she would be in love with him and that—_that _would be the proudest moment of her life.

"But we can make it work," he finished, pulling her back two inches.

She blinked her brown eyes at him. "I know. We will make it out." Cho let the smile that was tugging on the ends of her lips to emerge out. "Blaise, why are you in your boxers?" She asked, still very aware that he was half undressed and his tone chest was sending tingles in her stomach; the need to giggle at the sight of him tickled her throat.

"Long story." He waved his hand, disregarding the confused expression on his fiancée's face. "I was with Malfoy—"

Cho's eyes widened.

"No, not like that, Chang! I mean, Hermione was there—"

Her dark eyebrow rose up.

"No, you perverted witch! I was in their room and they were in their living room, then Mrs. Malfoy showed up— _don't look at me like that_!" He shouted, frowning at her as she stared at him with mocking shock.

"Shut up." Cho laughed, closing the distance between her and Blaise.

And before Zabini could protest, the Ravenclaw placed her mouth over his. Her lips gently and unfamiliar graced his with a smooth touch. A kiss that wasn't mean to be passionate or needy, but just to discover what it was like. A kiss that would break the walls between the two and allow them to make progress in their relationship.

It was a much needed kiss. One that filled them with hope for the future.

Blaise gulped, looking into Cho's dark eyes with a fluttery feeling in his chest as she pulled away from him. "Wow. Well, if I must say, that was surely different from Lovegood's."

Instead of raising her hand to smack him across the face, like he was expecting the second he let that slip, Cho pressed it on her lips. Covering the laughter that was spewing out of her at the comment her fiancée had made like it was the funniest thing he had ever said in her presence.

And taking her sudden joy as a good sign, Blaise wrapped his arms around her waist and proceeded to lift the witch from her feet. "To the bed!"

"Not happening, Zabini." Cho squeaked as she kept her eyes on the moving marbled-floor below her; allowing him to rush them to their room.

"Come on, Cho! I was eye-raped by the Head Boy before coming here!" The Slytherin grunted, shuddering at the memory of the lingering eyes of that Hufflepuff had on his oh-so muscular and godly chest. "Head _Boy!_ Make me feel manly again! I have detention and ten points taken from Slytherin, that must be worth something!"

And it oh, it was.

** X**

Through the darkness falling from the night sky and pouring in through the open window of the quiet chamber, Hermione Granger tiptoed her way inside of her room. Squinting her eyes as she walked in the engulfing darkness with an overly large bag clutched on to her hands; being extra careful not to stumble on anything and create a racket.

She had spent the evening being tortured by her new friend, Pansy Parkinson, and her soon-to-be mother-in-law until she found what they were all looking for.

And Merlin, she had. Hermione had found the perfect wedding dress.

Biting her lip as a sudden tingly sensation spread throughout her chest, her head rushing with imagination as she pictured that her blonde wizard was waiting for her at the end of the alter, watching with captivated eyes as she gleamed and sparkled like the diamond on her finger, the end of her wedding dress dragging lightly on her way towards him.

She had to let out a content sigh as she placed the bag on a conjured-chair and let her imagination take its own course. (Which was fairly unusual for the Brightest Witch of the Age.)

She kicked her shoes off when a ridiculous smile was placed on her face as she began to slip off her pants. (Merlin, who would've thought that a Gryffindor would be so enlightened about the idea of joining her soul with Slytherin's bouncing ferret?)

"You know—" A bolt of fear ran its way down Hermione's spine as her fantasies were interrupted by a velvety voice. "If you need help with that, you could've just asked."

The brunette turned a furious shade of pink that was thankfully covered by the lack of light in the chamber as she stood in nothing but her unbuttoned blouse and her— _ehem_—undergarments contrasting with the whiteness of it.

"You know, Malfoy, that is a terrible, ill-mannered thing to do," Hermione snapped in a scolding manner, "watching a girl undress herself." She turned on her feet , giving him her back as she threw off her shirt. (What a tease.)

"I wasn't watching, Hermione, I was rudely awakened by the bloody noise you make. I just happened to stubble on you shedding your clothing items." Draco scoffed, sitting himself up from his comfortable position on the bed. "Either you were planning on giving me a very brilliant show or you suck at sneaking yourself about."

"I was doing neither, _dear_," Hermione said, growing angry as she couldn't find her pajamas in the darkness and would not lower herself to cast the Lumos spell and have her fiancée stare at her in her ruby-red unmentionables. "I was trying to be considerate that you were sleeping merely because your mother asked me not to disturb her baby boy's precious dreams or else I would've barged in here like the uncivilized Muggle-Born that I am."

Draco glared in the darkness of the room. "I was just joking with you, Granger," he muttered in a tone so thick that he mind as well have insulted her.

Hermione grimaced, catching her mistake a moment after she did it. "…I know," she turned to face the blonde wizard. "I'm sorry. I'm just a bit tired and I tend to get cranky when I haven't gotten my sleep."

With the frown still upon his pale face, Draco responded, "then I expect that the anguish you had to endure with my mother and Pansy has placed you in an even worse mood."

"Yeah, well, shopping really isn't my thing, Malfoy," Hermione replied, trying her hardest to let a casual tone slither through her words. (She did not want to get into a row with Malfoy so late at night, especially when her peaceful sleep depended on it.) "I've always been more of an inside kind of girl." She gave him a smile in the light washing in from the moon outside.

"Don't worry, Granger." The brunette gave another internal groan at the sound of her last name coming from his lips. Great. She had managed to get into the first-name bases with him days ago and now they were back to the beginning. (Why must their tempers be absolute rubbish?) "I assume mother will be more than happy to show you the ways now that you won't have a need to be chasing down Death Eaters."

"Brilliant." She let out a forced chuckle. "Maybe I won't look like I've been living in the streets without my school-robes from now on."

"Mhm." Malfoy exhaled, his eyes no longer looking at her but at the shiny bag that was sitting next to her. "You found the dress?"

She smiled dimly, nodding slowly. "It took four hours less than it did to find Pansy's, but yes. I did find the dress."

"Can I see it?"

"_No_," she scoffed, taking that as an excuse to step away from the chair and head towards him. "I don't know how you do it in the wizarding world, Draco, but in my world the groom has to wait until the wedding day to see the bride in the dress."

"How will I know to coordinate with you?" He asked her, a small smirk playing on his lips. (Curse the girl and her power to get through to him!) "What if I decided to wear orange and we both clashed horribly?" He teased, scooting a few inches away from where he lay, enough for his fiancée to spread herself onto the bed but enough that he could feel his leg touch hers.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You won't be wearing orange because your mother will murder you if you embarrass her in such a manner. Besides, white goes with everything," she said knowingly as she began to fluff her pillows; trying not to let him see that she inhaled a bit of his scent that lingered on her side of the mattress. (Which he most stubbornly tries to make his every night.)"And you better not attempt to give it a go and see it, Draco, or I will personally hex you."

Malfoy let out a teasing hissing sound, plopping himself on his elbow as he watched her with mesmerized eyes. The moonlight seemed to highlight her beautiful features even more than what he was used to seeing. "Is that a threat, _darling_?"

"Take it as you want, Malfoy," she huffed, lowering herself and laying her back completely against the mattress.

"Well," he chuckled smugly again, waited a second, and positioned himself on top of her once more in a swift motion. Amused to the greatest extents as her eyes opened widely, still not used to the fact that he had gotten permission to be able to do such an action to her without slapping him; he had to restrain himself from laughing out loudly. "I've always fancied a witch with a bit of aggressiveness."

Breathing in determinedly to keep it together, Hermione said, "Draco, I'm fairly good at nonverbal spells, do not anger me."

"Of course not, my Gryffindor. I'll just sing you a lullaby and rock you to sleep. I've been told that I have a relaxing voice," he replied sarcastically, wiggling his pale eyebrows at her.

Hermione snorted, trying to control her heartbeat. (What was up with the way it banged and swirled and twirled every time that boy is around?) "I doubt you have such powers." Her eyebrows knitted together as he pulled her arms over her head and held them tightly there.

His silver eyes beaming in the moonlight as they lingered on her face.

"Lack of faith?" He whispered, his heart rate racing as he found himself close to the Brightest Witch of the Age once more. Something that was becoming a guilty pleasure of his. An action so intimate that he kept feeling that his old Slytherin-self was slowly fading away from his being and he was suddenly no better than all those boys that fantasized themselves with Granger in years past.

And through that, he had to admit she was such a dazzling sight. And now he was wondering how someone—how _he _could have hated her for so long. She was _everything_, everything great in the world.

"No," Hermione snapped, "your lack of brains." She attempted to give his back a kick, but ended with her leg hooked around Malfoy's hip.

"_Really_?" He smirked at her one last time, and let himself be enthralled to the holy feel of her lips.

Slowly, in the most softness of manners, their lips moved along together.

Their mouths so warm and so gentle upon each others that Hermione had to bite on his lower lip just to feel him. To get rid of the soaring rush she was feeling when he kissed her so gently. She wanted Malfoy to kiss her; kiss her sincerely, not like he was being careful she would break at any given moment.

She was there with him, after all. Her heart pounding so loudly in her ears, that it was drowning out the sound of his own loud beat. She wanted him to express his genuine emotions, his furious side that she was so used to. Not this gentle person that was currently letting his palms roam on the surface of her bare shoulders.

Feeling jolts of bliss run through his veins, Draco let out a silent growl as he felt the Gryffindor's hands slide down his chest to the end of his abdomen; gracing his skin with her warmness. Never in his dreams—or in his wildest insanity—did he ever picture that her touch could feel so heavenly on his flesh. Nor he could ever imagine that his skin would tingle and burn, urging on for more.

Hermione was shocked as a gasp slipped from between her lips when Draco moved his and placed them on the nape of her neck. Sinking his teeth in a harsh manner that instead of sending bolts of pain through her system she found them enticing. Just like she was finding him.

She snaked one hand away from his pale chest to the roots of his blonde hair, tugging at them roughly as she quivered under his body as his teeth continued to scrape her skin.

And as the heat seemed to rush and connect between the two so unexpectedly, and as the flashes and bursts of a blissful sensation ran through every particle in their bodies and hands roamed around everywhere and the items between their complete bare skin started to disappear, the next thing seemed not to cause a great shock among the two former enemies. Both of them, laying on each other with banging hearts and ragged breathes, soon became one in the moonlight.

A step that was bound to cross the level of sane to complete derangement—because the Gryffindor Princess and the Slytherin Prince would have never, years ago, expressed their hidden love for one another. Not like this, not so purely because it had never been there before.

But now it was, and it was a love that should not exist in the first place.


	22. The Frozen and Beautifully Broken

**Chapter Twenty-two**

In the darkness of the chamber—that was created by blinds thick enough to be considered cloaks—Luna Lovegood lay perfectly still on her couch. Her long, blonde locks were scattered beneath her head; illuminating her bright pale face like a white halo. Her crystal-blue eyes looked towards the shadow of the ceiling in the chamber, her breath so dim and tense that it was the loudest thing that was heard from the silent room. She laid with her arms crossed over her chest, one palm placed above her heart to make sure if it was still actually beating.

The weeks that had gone by seemed to be torture for Luna. Nothing had hurt so much since the tragic death of her mother, and she'd sworn to herself that her loss was the greatest impact she would ever experience. But, it seems, by a terrible joke played by fate, she ended up befriending Dean Thomas and that's when her troubles began.

She was the simplest girl in the most complex way possible. Sure, the rumors might be true and she might be mental, but that's just the way she liked it. She was the breath of fresh air so many needed in the rough moments. She liked to be different from others, like to see beyond the ordinary and what was normal in its context; the Anti-Hermione Granger as she'd heard so many times.

So unique, so naive.

And never in her journey in life did she expect to find love.

Through the bloodshed that the Second War had become throughout the entire Wizarding Community, the idea of stumbling upon someone she could call her own, to create those butterflies deep in her abdomen, the cause of the blush seeping through her pale cheeks, and the rush that formed in her chest was unbelievable—but, oh, was it possible.

Dean Thomas had come into her life so unexpectedly, along with all those others who called themselves her friends. And when they were held captive in Malfoy Manor a bond started to form, which later was then intensified as they spent weeks at Shell Cottage together. And without really realizing it, Luna found herself drawing his profound brown eyes on her sketchbook more than what _she _even considered normal; even the Nargles started taking their job too seriously and managed to make Luna stumble upon Dean more than she was accustom to.

And that's how it happened.

As simple and boring as it sounded, that's how it happened. It's how she fell in love with him—and then he took it upon himself to break her apart and regret ever knowing what being in love felt like.

"_Lumos_." The door to the chamber creaked open and the light from the outside corridors peered in from the space; causing the blonde girl to squint her eyes as the light created pressure on her forehead. "Luna?"

After blinking a couple of times, Luna moved her gaze onto the sound of the deep voice.

And to her misfortune, Dean Thomas stood by the door pointing his wand at her.

_Brilliant. He's not satisfied with everything he has done to me, now he wants to blind me too?_ She thought bitterly. Something that was not common for her, but then again pain wasn't common for her either and now she's stuck in this damn runt.

"Why are you laying in the dark?" The heart-breaking Gryffindor asked, pointing the bright tip of his wand away from the girl and onto a nearby lamp; igniting the light from it and quickly spreading it throughout the living room of the chamber. "Please tell me you attended your lessons today. I don't wish to have McGonagall here again and scolding you. I don't think that woman can get anymore terrifying than when she's yelling at you."

Holding back her retort—which would've been equally witty as evil—Luna bit her lip and kept her eyes framed towards the ceiling. (She did not spend years lurking in the shadows of people and not learn how to be cruel when she needed it. Slytherins in particular were most fun to watch when they were aggravated. So much that she could in fact a send a _'thank you'_ note to Malfoy for providing her with many insults to throw at any Gryffindor for many years to come. And that's leaving out the ones that are filled with many colorful words that even she wouldn't repeat.)

Dean sighed, bringing Luna back from her memories of overhearing Draco Malfoy's ramblings about the Golden Trio. "….It's been two months, Luna. Please talk to me," he said in a quiet voice, the desperation thick enough that even the Ravenclaw heard it. "Please. Anything. Even if you're going to send a hex at me, but it'd be lovely to hear your voice."

Luna scoffed.

"I guess that works too." Dean tugged on a tiny smile. "….Erm, before I came here," he began after a moment of awkward and tensed silence, "I was in my Transfiguration lesson and Hermione asked….well, more like I overheard her ask Harry if you were going to attend the wedding today. They sent you an invitation but you never responded to it, which then led to Harry's conversation of not seeing you around the castle anymore."

Luna felt a painful knot form in the bottom of her throat, and from behind her open eyelids she received flashes of the face of Harry Potter, a boy who had oddly become like a brother to her throughout time.

"I heard from Neville that they knocked—well, _banged_—on the door of our chamber and you never opened. He wasn't quite sure if you placed a Silencing Charm on it or just refused to have anything to do with them."

_Poor Neville, he must be worried sick_, Luna blinked and a tiny fragment of a tear pushed its way from her tearduct and slid itself down to the end of her nose. It created a trial, a pathway for the rest of her tears to follow pursuit once the moment arrived.

"Even Seamus is worried, you know?" The Gryffindor continued to murmur. "I heard from Parvati that he had a good twinge to ask me how you were, seeing as I'm the only one who gets to see you….But then he said that if he were to see my manky face he'd curse me to obliteration." Dean let out a small chuckle, taking a few steps away from the door and directing them towards the couch where the Ravenclaw lay. "Not that that scares me exactly, it's more of the fact that he's a menace with his wand and will probably send me to the Hospital Wing on fire."

Luna bolted up straight from her place on the couch and placed all her back on the edge of the armrest, her eyes growing wide as he attempted to get closer. "I expect that's the least you deserve, Dean," she mumbled furiously, fear rushing throughout her body as she could hear his heartbeat.

"Luna, could we please—"

"_No_," the blonde girl responded instantly, throwing her feet on the marbled floor of the chamber. "I don't want to hear it, Dean Thomas. I don't want to hear anything that comes out of your mouth. Not while it still reeks of Lavender Brown."

Before Luna could pull herself from the cushions of where she sat, Dean pointed his wand at her once more and said with a half-regretting tone, "_Petrificus Totalus_."

And Luna Lovegood froze.

"I'm sorry, Luna," Dean breathed, his face twisted up in guilt and agony. "I've never cursed a girl before...Well, not if you count Bellatrix Lestrange before she disarmed me. And my mum would murder me if she ever knew." He shook his dark hair, trailing off, and knelt in front of her. Trying not to let the guilt of her shocked blue eyes send remorse through his body and lead him to end the spell he had cast on her. "…I need you to hear me out on the Lavender situation and this way I have your undivided attention."

_ Oh, you're going to regret this. Ginny taught me the Bat-Boogey hex! Don't think I won't use it, _Luna sent a deep scowl at him. The most intimidating thing she could master at her given moment.

Dean gave her another small smile as he noticed her angry eyes. "Listen, Luna, that day that you found Lavender in our chamber she had just stopped by because she was having troubles with Seamus," he began his tale, "and you do recall the times she tried to give him a go and murder him, right? Well, apparently she had grown tired of feeling so angry and just wanted advise on how to handle the situation— "

_So she released her anger on you? And being the gentleman that you are you took one for the team? _Please.

"I gave her advise, telling her that all she needed was to be herself and Seamus would come around. I assumed you weren't going to show up that night, and she asked if she could stay. I told her to take our room and I'd stay on the couch. And…and when she hugged me goodnight, well, erm, she sort of kissed me— "

_ Oh for my daddy's Nargles._

"It was just a peck, Luna, a peck!" He shouted fast and clearly; noticing her eyes grow darker. "And as soon as we both registered the fact, we pulled away! I swear it. It didn't even last five seconds.

"But then….then you showed up and you found her in the towel. But that was because after what happened she just wanted to go back to her chamber and forget about what happened, but decided she needed to clear her head first. I suggested she'd take a quick shower and be off before the situation became worse."

Luna's eyes dropped some of their intensity.

"It was never my attention for all of this to happen, Luna," Dean whispered even more gently. "Honestly. I...I love you. And only you." He looked deep into her eyes, his own glittering with what looked like held-in tears. "Lavender has never been, and never will be, an option or threat. You have to believe me." He extended his left palm towards her, placing his fingers underneath her chin. "I'm so sorry I had you living in a lie for so long...but you really never gave me a chance to explain."

Luna's heart gave a loud thump and those tears fell down her cheeks.

"_Finite_," Dean murmured in a small voice and watched Luna come back to life. "Please, Luna, just...marry me."

Luna shook her blonde hair, her tears still falling helplessly. "Oh, Dean," her voice squeaked, "the things you make me feel," she said in a voice filled with emotions, fog that got in the way that the only logical thing she could do was toss herself towards the Gryffindor.

With a grunt and a bump on the head, Dean Thomas was slammed against the ground of his chamber with his fiancée on top of him. "So, will you marry me?" He asked, his face buried in her floral-scented hair. The feeling stuck in his throat made his voice come out shaky that he had to press her tighter to him to find some strength. (Oh, Merlin, had he missed her.)

"I wouldn't have it any other way," she whispered, wiping her eyes as she rested her head against his chest.

Swallowing his tears, Dean pulled on the witch's chin with his shaky fingers and found her lovely eyes looking deeply at him. "...I love you," he said and he found that her lips tasted as delicious as the smell of her hair.

"Get up," she said with a giggle, pulling herself away from the comfort of his chest and the bliss from his lips, "come on now."

He groaned in a playful irritation, seeing as he wanted to spend the next lifetime kissing and holding her and she had just put a pause on that. "Why?"

"Well, we have a wedding to go to. And I can't show up without my fiancée, can I?" She explained as she left his side and darted towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Dean asked, staring at her with questioning eyes as she tugged on the handle of the door.

She smiled at him grandly, dreamily—looking like the Luna Lovegood everyone knew. "I've got to go fix Lavender's relationship, of course." She flashed another second of that eccentric, calming smile and closed the door behind her.

Oh, it was the last time she will let all those mental emotions get the best of her, she promises that. From now on she would only allow herself to feel one, and that was the one that came more natural: being in love with what fate gave her.

** X**

A small humming bird soared over the tops of a beautifully decorated garden with many bright roses popping their hues from the green vegetation. It chirped along the grounds of Hogwarts, mixing its sounds with the light music playing in the background, entertaining a few people that were seated on the many chairs filed in rows on the grassy ground; dressed in their spring best.

"I'm getting married!" Blaise Zabini shouted from the top of his lungs as he dashed towards his best friend and Hermione Granger from his place at the front of an alter. "I'm getting married, mate! Can you believe it?"

Looking away from that little bird that seem to fly too far away, Hermione narrowed her eyes at the dark-skinned Slytherin. "Shockingly, _no_," she responded for her fiancée, both of them standing so close to each other and their hands clasped tight together as they witnessed the Slytherin's great happiness. "I was definitely sure Cho would never agree to this and she'd be the first in line to give up her magic to avoid it."

Blaise scoffed, adjusting the emerald tie he was wearing with his dark dress-robes. "Oh, please, she can't live without me," he replied in a voice full of smug. "She'll be getting all of this," and then he shimmied his hips at the brunette, "and you know what they say, Granger. Once you go Blaise you can't help but go craze."

Hermione stuck her tongue out, scrunching her face. "That's disgusting."

"Disgusting?" The groom huffed. "You and Drake are what is disgusting, Hermione. With your holding hands, snogging when you think no one's watching you, that sickening glow to your faces, the blush on your cheeks when he fumbled with the hem of your dress—"

"Were you watching us?" Draco hissed, raising his pale eyebrow as his fiancée turned a deep pink and she looked ready to either bolt from the garden or murder his friend.

"Well, excuse me if I had nothing to do!" Blaise glared, taking a step away from Hermione's angry-growing expression. "I've been standing here for forty minutes looking my bloody best. Grinning and posing for photographs, mesmerizing the other soon-to-be brides with this handsome face, making the blokes jealous because their witches wish they had a taste of me, winking at the Maid of Honor, receiving my wedding gifts, getting my mummy to stop crying, assuring Mister Chang that I have _not _violated his daughter before the ceremony, talking to reporters for the _Daily Prophet_, inspecting that no ruddy gate-crashers snuck into my party..."

Malfoy hardened his grey eyes, still frowning. "At what point exactly from your fun-filled adventure did you find yourself not having anything to occupy your thick head with that you needed to observe every move Hermione and I gave?" (Oh, how he hated the fact that Zabini saw him kissing the Gryffindor Princess. That was something he very much would have liked to keep to himself. He was not going to tolerate years and years to come of teasing and innuendos from the prat.)

"Actually," a grin spread on Zabini's tanned face as he looked ahead from them, "she pointed it out." He nudged his head forward, making Hermione and Draco turn to see Pansy Parkinson—dressed in an intense blue dress— arm-linked with Ron Weasley, step onto the main part of the garden. "She was helping Cho's family to their selected seats before Weasley showed up and she just happened to see you and Granger giving it a go by the children."

Draco and Hermione frowned more, and Blaise clucked his tongue.

"You sick, sick, sick individuals," Zabini said in a scolding voice, "how dare you let innocent eyes witness your ungodliness?"

Hermione groaned, noticing the amused expression on Pansy's face as she approached them and Ron's slightly scrunched up expression as he caught sight of her and Draco holding hands.

"Well, my dear Draco," Pansy smirked widely at the couple, her eyes gleaming with a malicious glint that Hermione would've sent a well-aimed curse at in years past, "it's good to see you with steady fingers. I never knew you had such playful ones before."

Ron frowned at his fiancée's comment and looked away from his best friend's blushing face. "Could we please not get into the subject of Malfoy's fingers, Pans?"

"Clearly." Blaise tugged on the sleeves of his robes and rolled his eyes at the two un-wed couples. "If Hermione is not complaining about them, neither should we. Now, let's get into a more important matter here—_my wedding_!"

Ignoring her fellow Slytherin, Pansy's eyes dropped their evilness to replace them with an odd tint. "Have any of you noticed who Ginny and Potter came with?" Her tone was thick with excitement that it sounded as she might squeal with glee. (Which would be very uncharacteristic of her, and would confuse Hermione of what was happening with the world she once knew.) "_Luna and Dean_!" She exclaimed before the two Gryffindors could ask or before Malfoy's neck could turn and scout the site for the Potter couple.

"As in Dean Thomas?"

"Yes!" Pansy laughed loudly. "Apparently they mended their troubles." She then clapped her hands. "Oh, I've never seen such a glow on Lovegood's face before! It's rather contagious."

Flinching on his spot at the sudden light jump Pansy gave, Malfoy knitted his eyebrows; feeling a little disturbed. "Please tell me, Weasel, that you did not put the Cheering Charm on her?" He whispered towards the redhead with his eyes still focused on a blissful-looking Pansy.

"Oh, he did!" Pansy grinned at Draco, obviously hearing the question directed to her fiancée. "And he'll suffer a great pain for it later."

Ron's blue eyes widened. "She was getting a bit carried away with Zabini's wedding that she wanted to move ours closer. Like in two weeks. I had to do something to help me out, didn't I?" He mumbled to the other three, keeping his stare firmly on his wand-hand. "It should wear away in a couple of hours, and hopefully by then I've come up with a wicked plea to spare me from her wrath."

"Poor Lovegood, " Blaise muttered, his attention not on the redhead and his abnormally-happy girlfriend but at the glittering Ravenclaw a few feet away with her hand clasped tightly with a tall Gryffindor. "She knew that I was meant for Cho and she had no choice but to go back to Thomas. Well, at least she got a good snog before I'm off the market. Oh, the riot I cause with the witches in this castle."

Draco, Hermione, Ron and Pansy watched as his dark face slowly faded from an arrogant expression to a trembling bottom lip and watering eyes; a revelation crossing over him.

"Blaise?"

"I'm getting married!" He blubbered, startling Hermione as she attempted to place a hand on his shoulder. "What the bloody hell am I doing? I'm denying the world from my goodies to sleep on a couch?" He pulled at the top of his tie, loosing it. "_Non posso respirare_!"

Ron raised his eyebrow; clearly not catching what the Slytherin had just said. "Erm, _what_?"

"I'm going to faint!" Blaise shouted before darting out of the garden and towards a cabin nearby.

"For Slytherin's sake," Draco grunted, his frown subsiding Pansy's giggles. "I better go talk to him before he passes out. Again." He turned to his fiancée and raised her hand to his face. "I'll be back, 'Mione." He pressed his lips gently on to her knuckles, a smirk growing on his face as she reddened and then headed to find his best friend.

And as the blonde walked away, trying to find his sobbing and emotional friend, Pansy swayed on her spot as she smirked widely at the brunette. "Aw, look at you, Granger."

Looking away from her fiancée's retreating figure, Hermione turned to see the witch leer at her mockingly; Ron's matching hers. (She was such a bad influence on him.)

And from her frown, Pansy said, "you're in love, aren't you?"

"I-I...erm...Shove off, Parkinson," Hermione retorted in a splutter. "Can't you mind your business and not nose about on what Draco and I do?"

"Oh," the dark-haired witch laughed, "touchy on the subject, are we? Very well then, I will not speak about the love between you and Draco." She didn't give the brunette a chance to reply when she added, "just because it's unnatural and this bloody charm forbids me to speak of such illness."

Hermione rolled her eyes and Ron took a step away from them; feeling cautious.

"We've just gotten back from talking to Pansy's parents," the redhead said, changing the conversation before either of the two witches present could start to row. (He was not quite sure who he would support—well, okay, he knew he'd be behind Pansy completely because, well, he loves her and she entertains him at night. Obvious there, isn't it?) "Zabini seemed to have invited everyone on his mummy's owl-list and we were shocked to see them striding down from the castle."

"…I tried to hide," Pansy side-commented.

Ron gave a nod and then said, "Mrs. Parkinson was surprisingly charming when I was talking to her. She seemed so eager for the wedding that she looked like she might wet herself from the anticipation."

The brunette looked at her friend in a scolding manner. "_Ronald_."

"What? She was. She even wanted to meet my mum so they can start planning the wedding. Which is in a couple of months, as she reminded me every other second," he grumbled silently. "Everything was going well, you know, until…."

On the sudden soiled look on her bets friend's face, Hermione asked, "until what?"

"Dad's not so pleased with who I was sorted with," Pansy spoke, the charm apparently lifting itself as she looked sadder than Ron did, "and he made sure to inform us that he wasn't happy with me marrying a Blood-Traitor."

Ron looked even more saddened, and Hermione knew it was because he most likely felt like he wasn't good enough. Like he still wasn't good enough.

"I swore mother was going to hex him on the spot, but I pulled Ron away before either of them could speak again." Pansy moved her dark eyes from Hermione and looked deeply at the redhead boy. "…It doesn't matter, Ron, I already told you. Dad can say all the things he wants to, but none of it is going to change what I think. I told you from a start that they are vile, but I—_Look at me, Ronald._"

Ron mumbled something incoherently, and his fiancée had to reach for his chin and snap his head towards her direction. Making him look at her; to stare at her glittering eyes.

"I love you, alright?" Pansy whispered. "I love you, and I _want _to be one of the Weasley women."

Ron let a small smile crawl on his freckly face. "….I love you too, Pans."

And as they sealed such an oddly tender moment with a tender kiss, Hermione headed to find her fiancée. Suddenly feeling a bit lonely without him, and wanting to feel that sensation that Ron and Pansy were no doubt feeling from one another.

** X**

"Hold still, you git," Draco hissed, his hands trying to untie the emerald tie from around his friend's neck. "Calm down, Zabini, or I'll hex your bits off if you go into a convulsion!" He threatened, growing irritated at the trembling his best mate was giving.

Blaise nodded hectically. "I'm okay...I'm okay," he chanted to himself, taking a seat on the chair provided by the cabin. (Well, the one that the Headmistress provided for his joyous occasion for having the ceremony in the school grounds.) "I'm a big lad...I'm a big lad. I can handle this."

"You're being pathetic, Blaise," his friend snorted, slapping him beside the face. "I said hold still!"

Zabini gulped. "T-Thanks, mate," he muttered incoherently as he rubbed his right cheek from the slap he'd just gotten. "I needed that."

"I didn't do it for your needs, mate, but for my own," Draco responded, waving away the gratitude his friend gave to him. "You're becoming like a blubbering witch with her knickers in a twist, you know? No wonder Chang can handle you like a dangling strand of yarn."

"I resent that," Blaise muttered, grabbing the tie his fellow Slytherin managed to snake away from his neck and allowing him access to the oxygen floating around them. "I'm just having a bit of trouble knowing that I'm actually doing this, you know? I mean...I'm glad I'm doing this, I wouldn't give up my magic for all the galleons in the world, it's what makes me such a lovely boy, after all. But...I guess I'm growing up."

Taking a seat from across Zabini's, Draco sighed in frustration. "I'd expect you figured that out when you turned seventeen, Blaise." He rolled his eyes. "Look, you just have to grit your teeth and remember that you love Cho. Granted, you're not in love with her, but you know that will happen someday."

His friend nodded slowly. "…Someday."

"Maybe after she gives you a bit of action and you truly become a man."

And then Blaise frowned deeply, his panic-attack forgotten. "I am too a man, Malfoy!" He snapped, his ego wounded slightly. (Curse Chang for not giving it up!) "And, yes, I'm content that at least we're good friends and that our marriage won't be awkward, but still. Seeing everything set up and all the congratulating people, it suddenly makes everything real." He gave his head a slight shake, rubbing his eyelids as he tried breathing calmly again. "…I'm going to pass out when I see her coming down that aisle, mate, I know it."

Feeling unlike himself, Draco gave his friend a smile. "Just think that she'll be the witch you'll end up being so in love with, who you will share everything with, and who will ultimately give you children."

Blaise looked up, looking alarmed and like he was about to start going into another fit.

"Fine, you ruddy idiot, think that she'll give it up at the end of the ceremony," Malfoy snapped, taking the conversation to another direction.

"Now you're talking, Malfoy!" Blaise grinned, clapping his hands together and laughing excitedly.

Draco snorted, "_pathetic_."

"Oh, don't go about being so insulted, Drake." The dark Slytherin rolled his green eyes. "Just because I'm not entirely in love with Cho doesn't make _you _a sudden saint because you and Hermione got manky in your chamber and you enjoyed it ever so much."

Malfoy's eyes threatened to open widely and in shock, but he managed to glare at Blaise before they gave him away. "I do not know what you are talking about."

"You don't, do you?" Blaise grinned cheekily. "Honestly, Malfoy, just because I play to be an idiot doesn't mean that I am one. You seem to be forgetting that between you and I, I'm the mastermind behind all Slytherins. I see and notice everything—and that affection that you've developed for Granger is immensely obvious. Believe me, the entire castle can see your eyes shining when she holds your hand."

The blonde frowned automatically. "Affection? I feel no— "

"Oh, pardon me then—the _love _you feel for Granger is obvious," Blaise corrected himself before Draco could get out his complete denial. "There's nothing wrong with loving her, you know? You look strangely happy when you're around her, something I haven't seen in your face since Fourth Year when you were certain Potter was going to be eaten by that dragon."

Draco still said nothing, eyes narrowed at his fellow house-mate.

Blaise continued, "I'm assuming your plan backfired on you, then. Which is not a surprise to me either seeing as you never have the heart to finish your sadistic— "

"My plan is going perfectly well," Malfoy hissed, standing himself up from the chair as he finally got enough of the things Zabini said. "If you, the smartest bloke in the castle, can _see _the love I developed for the Muggle-Born then obviously I'm playing my cards right and even she has began to believe it!"

Blaise raised an eyebrow.

Draco's chest heaved up with anger, his fury boiling through his veins as he disregarded his friend's expression. "I would _never _allow myself to love that filthy bookworm, even if I was tortured into it, understood? I'm doing this for my benefit, just like I've told you plenty of times before. This marriage is nothing but convenient for me and unlucky for her."

And yet with his anger blazing deep inside of his chest, with the words filled with hate and venom spewing out of his mouth, his silver eyes held no flame. They stared back at his best friend with his lies dripping from their sockets. The hate on the surface not matching what his eyes reflected on the inside.

"….You love her, don't you?"

Draco lowered his head, his blonde hair falling to his forehead as he looked down at his chest and nodded his response. His eyes quickly looked back up at Blaise as he noticed his shoes appear right in front of him after a few seconds.

And again to his surprise Blaise was grinning largely and proudly.

Malfoy scoffed at Zabini's annoyingly I'm-always-right expression that he was wearing at the current moment.

"That's my mate! The Slytherin Pureblood Prince that has no heart and feels no emotion!" Zabini laughed, slapping the back of Draco's robes. "Come, Malfoy, I'm getting married."

In a strange moment of friendship, in what could be described more like a moment filled with brotherly affection, Blaise Zabini and Draco Malfoy exited the cabin with two smirks on their faces; just like only the Slytherins knew how to do. An arm draped around each others shoulders as they headed towards Blaise's future together. Leaving the blonde wizard with hopes that his was just over the horizon.

But what neither of them seemed to have noticed was the brunette sitting underneath the cracked cabin window with heartbreaking tears falling from her hazel eyes and a broken expression on her face as the world started to crash all around her.


	23. Betraying the Brightest Witch

**Chapter Twenty-Thre**

In the silent corridor of the ancient castle of Hogwarts, Hermione Granger walked with her arms crossed over her chest. Such ferociousness with her act that one to see her would assume that her own hold was keeping her together, keeping her from falling to pieces.

And with every heavy step that she took, leaving a bit of her soul behind, wishing she could disappear into the walls and die there, her eyes drained single teardrops. Each held a broken emotion as they ran down her usual rosy cheeks with mock, reminding her that the pain that she was feeling in her chest was real—that her broken heart was real.

Without having the courage—oh, that once normal courage— from removing her arms from around herself, Hermione came to a stop in front of a small wooden door, staring at it silently and brokenly. She took a ragged breath through her nostrils and aimed a weak kick at the door. (She didn't dare to lift her knuckles onto the wood, that would imply risking the chance of falling into pieces on the marbled floor. And if that happened, who would pick her up?)

_Bang. Bang._

The door opened instantly. Almost as if they'd been waiting for her to come knocking at any given moment; waiting for her by the door like they knew she was coming.

Relieved eyes stared deeply into her broken ones. "_Hermione_," she was pulled into a pair of strong arms and smashed into a toned chest, hearing the erratic heartbeat against her ear. "Where have you been? Pansy said you left without a word—and you weren't there for Cho's wedding!"

"Harry, who's at the— " Coming out of the only room inside of the chamber, Ginny Potter, dressed in her dark nightgown, stared with wide eyes at her husband and a brunette embraced tightly in his arms. "Hermione, you daft witch! You had us looking for you everywhere! Do you know how scared we were?" The redhead shouted, stomping her way towards the two at the entrance of her chamber. "_Where were you_?"

Feeling a retort of how much Ginny sounded like Mrs. Weasley, how much she looked like her mother when she was angered stick in her throat without a chance of coming out, Hermione swallowed it away and pushed herself away from her best friend's hold.

Harry held onto her hand, however, refusing to let go.

"…Harry," she mumbled thickly, her voice coming out hoarse. "I — " but before she could complete her sentence, the brunette started leaking tears from her puffy-red eyes like rain from the skies on a stormy night.

Mirroring the same look of worry, of panic that Harry had, Ginny took a slower step towards the brunette. "Hermione," she whispered gently through the girl's sobbing, "what is it?"

Hermione didn't answer, she just cried, cried, cried.

"Did something happened to you?" The redhead asked again, more concern in her voice. "What's going on? Don't cry, 'Mione. Harry, go get Malfoy."

"_No_!" Hermione picked her head up quickly, her curls swaying away from her wet face at the mention of the sadistic surname. "You don't need…" she trailed off pausing for a second as she felt her chest pain her so roughly. "Can I have a moment alone with Harry, please?"

Ginny looked between the girl and her husband. She didn't move from her stance, a little hesitant. (Now, don't get her wrong here. It's not that she was being hesitant because she mistrusted Hermione—because that would never be the case—it was because she was _crying_. Surely she'd want to talk to Ginny, another girl. Someone who will be more of a use as she shed tears than Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Knows-Nothing.)

But respecting the girl and the fact that the clueless boy was her best friend, Ginny nodded solemnly. "Very well then. I'll be in the room. I'll just owl Ron, okay? He was worried sick that Pansy had to smuggle in some Firewhiskey from the wedding to calm him down."

Waiting three seconds just in case Hermione would object and see reason that this was a girl-conversation, Ginny nodded her head at them and proceeded back into her room.(Bloody hell, where was George with those Extendable Ears when she needed them?)

After waiting for his wife to close the door of her chamber, Harry turned back around to face his best friend. "Hermione, what's going on?" He asked automatically, furrowing his brows at her. "You disappeared from Zabini's wedding without telling anyone where you went, that's not right. Ron, Malfoy and I searched the bloody castle for you everywhere—_what happened_?"

"He happened," Hermione snapped with a teary retort, abruptly infuriated at the sound of her fiancée's name again. (Must everyone refer to him properly? What happened to 'the Bouncing White Ferret?' Did that suddenly become too long for everyone to say?)

Harry said nothing, except he stood there looking a little perplexed.

She continued, wiping her tears from her cheeks. "Draco _fucking _Malfoy," it sounded so wrong from her usually polite manner of speaking. "Why did no one ever have the decency to tell me that I was being so stupid in lowering my defenses when it came to him? Why couldn't you or Ron nag me on and on that I shouldn't trust him? Why, Harry?"

Harry took a step back, holding his composure as she punched his chest, tears spilling everywhere.

She was a downright mess and she knew it. But she couldn't help the anger, the fury, that was burning deep in her chest. It was far more intense than the pain—which she has yet to fully feel unfortunately. Because all she had been managing to do is repeat Malfoy's words over and over again in her head. Trying to find some sort of logic to them; to see the tiny gap in between the hatred spewing from his mouth and discover the lie. Discover that it was all a lie and she heard wrong, that for once the Brightest Witch of the Age was wrong.

But of course that would never happen. She was who she was. She was Hermione Granger and she was never wrong.

Unmoved by another swift punch he received, Harry kept his bespectacled emerald eyes on the crying brunette in front of him. Confused by the tears and the intense emotions radiating off of her like she was a stranger crying her troubles in front of him. "What exactly happened, 'Mione?" His voice was low. "You...I need to understand, and you need to be clear about it."

She looked up at him, something like an anger crossing her expression.

He cleared his throat awkwardly. "I'm assuming Malfoy is at fault here?"

"_Obviously_," she huffed, wiping away those never-ending tears from her cheeks that kept wetting her face.

She needed to remain calm, that's what she was known for after all. To always be the one to think, speak, and then react. (How could one single boy mess that up? How could he have the power to turn her into a pile of utter rubbish; to the point that she didn't even know how to act or be herself?)

"I overheard him talking to Blaise, Harry," she began, taking in a much needed breath; hoping to Merlin that she wouldn't pass out from the lack of it. Her lungs seemed not to be functioning at that moment because her chest was overloaded with so many emotions that it was forgetting how to work, how to keep her breathing and living.

She took another moment to pause and drag in oxygen with her mouth.

She exhaled after a long second. "We've been...We were getting along fairly for a while now. And the Christmas holidays just seemed to intensify that...I f-found myself thinking about him more than usual, and none of them containing ways on how to hex him to get myself o-out of this mess...I dunno...

"I was stupid. A pathetic girl who fell for the charm of a boy who...I just started to fancy him, that's what happened.…I started to enjoy every moment that we were together. All the while l-liking the fact that we still bickered like our old selves...but that hatred wasn't there anymore...It was something _m-more_."

Her voice cracked, and Harry reached for her other hand. (It was about the only support he knew how to give the brunette at the moment.) "…So, erm, you fancy him. Is that it? Is that what has you all worked up?"

There was silence. The girl looking like she was lost somewhere faraway, her eyes not focusing as they looked into Harry's.

"Hermione," her best friend cleared his throat again, "I know that you and Malfoy have had extreme hatred for one another before, but if that changed, then there is no need to feel—"

"And when he would kiss me," she interrupted him, barely hearing what he was saying as instead she was too focused on those betraying silver eyes playing in her mind, "…it just felt right. It felt sincere...and absolutely blissful...So when I let him...when we allowed to forget everything and just express what we felt...to do what we—" She shook her brown curls, shaking away the painful memory of their first time together as she gave her best friend's hand a squeeze and she came back to the now.

"I thought he felt the same way," her tone was raw. "When he l-looked at me, Harry, I knew that there was something truly there—but it was all a lie!" She tossed his hands from her, feeling the pressure of her hurt jab her insides with much force that she had to clutch the door handle to keep herself from falling over.

Harry tried to get a hold on her shaking hands once more, but he was met with a furious stare and he decided to take a step back from Hermione instead. He was well aware of the charms that she was capable of doing when she was upset, after all, and he was not so keen on risking his neck. Ron was still traumatized by yellow birds last time he attempted to approach her when she was irritated, and he didn't want to experience that. (He had just gotten married, he wanted to live.)

"….I don't understand."

"He _lied _to me!" Her voice was shrill, holding an aggravated tone. "His plan all along was to make me fall in love with him for Merlin-knows what reasons in that _sick _head of his! All he was doing was just toying with me. He wanted me to give in to him, to accept this marriage without a kick or a scream, make his job easier for him! And after I bared his filthy last name, that's when he was going to show his true colors and make my life a living hell!"

More thick tears fell easily from her. The pain so fresh and unbarring that she still felt like those past hours that she had hid in the Room of Requirement never happened. Because she still continued to cry like if she was under that cabin window and everything came to light.

"I'll murder him." Harry reached for his wand, taking it out quickly from his pocket like the experienced Savior of the World that he was. "Forget about keeping the peace, I'm sure I can persuade Kingsley from locking me up in Azkaban once I'm through with that sack of trash."

"Harry, _no_!" The brunette snapped herself away from her pain, turning instantly to the angry-faced Gryffindor. "Are you mental? I will not let you do such a thing. He doesn't deserve the effort!" She managed to walk to him, without landing on the floor, and grasped his arms tightly; looking into his stare with pleading eyes. "You can't Harry. I-I wanted to tell you specifically because I knew you wouldn't react so maniacally like Ginny or Ron."

He glared behind his glasses.

She squeezed his arms tighter. "Promise me you won't go looking for Mal…for him, okay? He's mine to attend to."

"'Mione," Harry pushed her grip aside, and for the second time, held her hands tightly with his own, "you're like my sister. I would never...you know that I..." he trailed off helplessly. (Blimey, he really did suck when it came to this.)

"I love you too, Harry," Hermione whispered, her tears slowing down in their pace, "but...but what's done is done, and I was fooled. I lowered my defenses, broke my walls down for him. And now I'm paying for my mistakes. And no one else should be held responsible for what I'm feeling but him and I..."

The Chosen One scoffed. "I doubt that git of a ferret will take responsibility of his vile characteristics, Hermione."

Now she was a little confused. "…What do you mean?"

"The marriage, 'Mione, _the marriage_! He still gets what he wants in the end!" His voice rose two levels too loud. "You were there when Kingsley and McGonagall repeated quite a few times about the Marriage Law being a binding magical contract. As citizens of the Wizarding World we must obey them. You'e no choice, Hermione. You will have to marry Malfoy just like it was said."

Hermione's brown eyes opened widely and her hands slowly slipped out of Harry's. Realization spreading throughout and all over her tear-stained face.

"I-I..." her lips trembled as she tried to form coherent words. But seeing as she wasn't about to say anything sane for a few long moments, she turned on her heels and dashed out of the Potters chamber with the weight of her friend's comment on her shoulders.

"Hermione, where are you—"

"Nice going, idiot!" Ginny bolted out from the room before her husband could exit the chamber and run after the brunette.

"What? I didn't—Did you hear everything?" The black-haired wizard asked as the fiery redhead gave him a lethal stare.

"Of course!" His young wife retaliated. "I had to do it the muggle-way and use my own ears, mind you, but I managed to get every word." She stalked over to Harry and smacked him upside the head. "You should've listened to what you said, Potter!" She shouted after Harry muttered a 'What did I do?' as he rubbed his head; recoiling at her furious frown. "She's about to do the stupidest thing ever!"

Harry frowned. "She's not," and then dodged another smack.

And, oh, for Dumbledore's great, white beard was he going to be wrong.

**X**

"I want to know where she is!"

A pair of fists were slammed roughly against the surface of the grand desk that belonged to the Headmistress of Hogwarts.

"I assure you that we have done everything possible when it comes to the school's security," her beady eyes looked patiently and somewhat smug into the infuriated silver ones glaring back at her. "We have had the Prefects, Professors, Staff, Head Boy and Girl, and not to mention the ghosts, look for her, Mister Malfoy. All I can suggest now is for you to remain calm until she's found."

Ignoring the old woman, Draco hissed, "report it to the Ministry!" All his manners flying out the window of her office as he forgot that he was shouting, and being incredibly rude to the authority of his school. "If no one in the castle has been able to find her is because she's not inside of these walls! She must have gotten out!"

"Mister Malfoy," the Headmistress sighed tiredly—although she was enjoying his worried scene for his fiancée.(She had heard of his dramatics, but never imagined them to be this annoying.) "Miss Granger couldn't have possibly left the castle without any of our security-charms breaking. Again, I assure you she's still inside of the castle. All we have left to do is wait for her to return on her own accord. We have tried—"

"She's the brightest witch of the age!" He didn't wait for her to tell him the same useless things. Draco Malfoy always got what he wanted, and he wanted answers and Hermione Granger in front him at that precise moment. "She can find a way of getting out of this castle without anyone noticing! And I will not calm down until I have her in front of me, so there's no damn use of repeating it."

And what Draco Malfoy wants, Draco Malfoy gets.

The door of the Headmistress' office burst open; the faint sound of the gargoyle staircase reeling itself back down was heard as a brunette walked inside.

Something appeared in the air. Something that was too thick to be ease.

"Professor," glistening brown eyes met those frantic grey ones as the brunette came to a halt by the entrance of the office.

"_Hermione_!" Draco breathed, his heart settling itself back down to its accurate place in his chest. His anger towards the Headmistress, and every incapable and inept member of her search-party, slowly faded away as relief took over his entire being. "Where the hell where you?" He practically apparated to her, embracing her tightly. (The jumped-up bookworm! How dare she make him an nervous pile of rubbish?)

"Let go of me," Hermione mumbled, her palms reaching up to his cold chest, no longer feeling the warmth of his being, and contracting her nails into his flesh through his robes. "_Let go of me_!" She repeated louder, pushing with all of her force against him.

He blinked at her, confused. "Hermione, what's wrong?" He asked her, wincing dimly at the small wounds forming on his chest. "What happened?"

"Don't you dare touch me," she hissed, taking a step away from him and his lies.

"Professor," Malfoy spoke, his eyes staring at the brunette with much more than worry, "perhaps we should send her to Madam Pomfrey. Something is not right, she looks a mess."

"—Because of you!" Hermione screamed without missing a beat. "I'm a mess because of _you_!" She whipped out her wand from inside of her dress.

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall stood quickly from her chair, gaping at her most decent student with perplexed eyes. "Lower your wand. We do not resolve matters and miscommunications with violence. I expected you to know much better than that by now," she scolded. "Now, lower your wand."

"I will not lower my wand!" Hermione contradicted, no longer letting the reasonable side of her overpower the fury inside of her.

She couldn't think of her morals or that she was defying a teacher, not now anyway. All she knew was that ragged pull and lurches going on in her insides. She could only feel and focus on that pain that seemed never ending. On those damned tears that never wanted to stop, on those unholy and betrayed sensations she felt when her face was buried into Draco's chest.

She just wanted to break him, to kill him—just like he had done to her with his viciousness and cold heart.

"Hermione," and not understanding, not seeing that she hated him, Draco tried to reach for her, "what happened? Did someone hurt you?" A strange pressure formed in the back of his sockets as she rejected his hand, his touch. (He just wanted to hold her. He _needed_ to hold her.) "Tell me what happened."

In the background, the Headmistress stared with deep worry at her top student. "Miss Granger?"

"….I give up," Hermione muttered weakly, the knot forming much more agonizing in the pit of her throat, causing her such a disturbance she found the next words to slice her to shreds as they made their way out. "I give up. I don't want to do this...I don't want to do this anymore." She blinked tears. "Maybe you were right, Professor. Maybe I am a quitter. And I should've never let the drive to succeed...to gain your respect and prove that I was brave like I've always been to take me into the traps of this...person."

The old woman knitted her eyebrows, something in her knowing where this was going.

"I want out," Hermione screeched in the lowest tone, contradicting itself. "I don't care about laws, I don't care about my commitment to my community, I just want to quit."

"What are you talking about?" Malfoy asked, swallowing a lump that'd just formed and bothered him greatly because of her apparent misery. "Hermione, what's going on? Why are you—"

"I heard you with Blaise," she retorted, unmoved by his sparkling silver eyes and puzzled expression. (His charms will never get the best of her anymore. Fool her once, shame on him. Fool her twice, oh hell to the no.)

She watched as he opened his mouth and no words to his defense came out. "…Exactly. Nothing to say, right, Malfoy?"

Draco swallowed again, his eyes hardening. "You don't understand—"

"No, I understand perfectly," the Gryffindor interrupted him, not letting his words taint her ears anymore. "I might have been stupid before, but my hearing is perfectly fine, Malfoy. I will not give you the satisfaction of watching me trail after you like a ruddy cat. _I'm done_. You wanted to play with me? Well think twice, Malfoy! I've hexed cowards who have tried to hurt me, don't think I won't hesitate to do it to you!" She lifted her wand higher to his face.

"Miss Granger— "

"Are you mental?" Draco shouted, shoving her wand away from his face. "How can you believe that after everything we've progressed together?" He pulled his own wand out as she snapped hers back into the air. "_I thought you knew me_!"

"Oh, please! I've gotten to know who you wanted me to know!" Hermione responded aggressively, no fear spreading throughout her body as he pointed his wand inches from her nose. (He'd already caused a vast pain inside of her, a curse would be nothing compared to how she felt.)

The Headmistress frowned at both of them and their tactless audacity. "Lower your wands," she ordered.

"I'm through," the brunette repeated, turning her gaze to the professor, her wand held high. "I'm done, Professor McGonagall. I know what it implies to reject the Minister's law, but I don't care."

"Hermione— "Both Slytherin student and the Headmistress said quickly, their eyes open wide at the remark the Gryffindor had said.

She raised one of her palms, shaking her head; pleading them with her broken brown eyes to stop. She couldn't hear it anymore, she couldn't handle it anymore. "….There's nothing to be said," Hermione lowered her wand in resignation.

After all, he had won now. He wanted her to break, and that's exactly what happened.

She was done.

She raised and waved her flag of surrender. The battle, the war were all his.

Moving her tearful look at the marbled floor of the office, beginning to make her way out of the door, Hermione could feel the fragments of her heart pounding loudly in her ears with all those insane and exhausting emotions. "I'll be expecting Kingsley's letter and date," she said, inhaling deeply as the last words drained from her lips and she reached for the door handle. "I will present myself at the Ministry when he orders it…to give up my magic and erase my memories."

And then—_Bang_, out of nowhere; but so expected.

The had door closed abruptly behind her with the last flecks of will she had left to do it. She could hear the yells of _'Hermione, Hermione!'_ coming from Draco Malfoy; her traitor tears beginning to roll once more down her cheeks.

Betraying her with every tiny splash they gave onto her skin, reminding her that, in fact, she was in love with the Slytherin Prince and all the charms that had come with him.

Oh, what an idiot she was for falling for it.


	24. Of Honeymoons and Joining Forces

**Chapter Twenty-four**

Like any other regular school day, the Great Hall was filled with most of its student. From the not-so-frighten-anymore First Years, to the returning Seventh Years that looked smug on their faces because many of them were already legal adults—who enjoyed to display their more advanced magic to the younger students. Earning them frowns and disapproving stares from the Hogwarts teachers and Filch, who looked like he was waiting for one of them to conjure paint all over the walls of the castle.

Laughter and mindless chatter was the sound that bounced off the walls of the Great Hall, coming from every house-table, and even the usually sophisticated and silent students of Salazar Slytherin were busy gossiping and retorting remarks about everyone else. (Like regular conniving snakes that they were.)

And through that hectic commotion, trying to just sit in silence and ignore everyone else, one student was having problems with his plans as all he was able to register was the annoying words coming out of the closest two people in front of him.

"I love you."

"No, I love you."

"No, no. I love you."

"No, I really love you."

"Yeah, but I really, really, love you."

"Impossible. I really, really, real—"

"I will really, really, really, hex your mouth off—_so shut it!_" Draco Malfoy hissed, his silver eyes stabbing the faces of Blaise and Cho Zabini. (The disgust of such union already.)

Clashing with the emerald and silver around the table with her navy and bronze, Cho's jaw dropped and her hands slipped away from her husband's as she stared shockingly at the Slytherin Prince. (Oh, hell to the not right about there.)

"Erm, Drake," Blaise patted Cho's hand reassuringly and turned his green eyes at his friend, "can you please not interrupt us? We're in our honeymoon, and I honestly don't like being cut-off when I'm trying to explain to my wife my deepest feelings for her."

Malfoy continued to frown at them, his right hand clutching onto his spoon with fury that he started bending the metal back. "I've been hearing the same bloody sentences for the past twenty minutes and the twenty minutes before that! No one bloody cares for your need to explain to your wife how you liked to caress and snuggle after you two finished doing something that goes against nature!" The neck of the spoon was already bent all that it could go, and now he tried to channel his anger in breaking it in half.

The new Zabini couple both glared; both turning a little flush-pink as other Slytherins started listening in.

"And you've been on your '_honeymoon_'," Malfoy continued dangerously annoyed, "for the past month! Come back to the bloody present. At a certain point, the sickness of it must end!"

Cho frowned, her shocked face wiping completely off. "The sickness of it," she repeated, her dark eyes turning into a menacing stare. "Look, Malfoy—"

"No, you look, Cho," Draco interrupted again, throwing his broken spoon at the couple. "If you've yet to notice, you're not in the Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw table, and we Slytherins tend to handle situations differently than making nearby people gag with the ridiculous crap you and Zabini are doing, alright? So I suggest you let the others, alike myself, sulk and frown in peace like we're used to."

Cho glared harder, making Blaise's eyes open wide as she squeezed his fingers with her retracting palm. "Look, Malfoy," she tossed the spoon back, getting the blonde Slytherin directly on the forehead, "just because you're quite the imbecile and got yourself in—"

"Okay, okay." And just as the Ravenclaw was interrupted once more, a wand suddenly was pointed towards her face; silencing her completely.

(But, oh, did Blaise look like he was in much more pain as he let out squeals as Cho twisted his fingers in her silent anger.)

"We've seriously become a bad influence on the other houses," Pansy Parkinson commented as she held her wand in place. "I think you might want to shape her up again, Blaise, or this is going to become quite dangerous."

Blaise let out another squeal of pain as Cho squeezed his hand tighter, clenching her teeth as Pansy kept the silencing charm on her.

And unaware of it—or choosing to ignore it since it was a lot more fun this way— Pansy narrowed her eyes at her blonde house-mate. "And as for you, Draco, you need a long walk around the grounds. How does that sound?"

"I don't want to take a walk."

"I didn't ask if you wanted to," Pansy hissed, her wand-tip now pointing at his face. (Before, months ago, actually, she would've never dared to command the Slytherin Prince, but now was now. She had been around a redhead barbarian and knew nothing but grunts and orders.) "I said you need one, hence you _will _take one." She gripped the collar of his robes, pulling on his emerald tie and cutting off some of his oxygen. "Come on now, up, up, up."

Malfoy shoved her grip away, taking in a deep breath as Blaise squealed once more.

"Mind lifting the spell!" Blaise shouted, his eyes turning deep red as his fingers drained from their color and blood stopped rushing to his hand.

"But it's funnier this way." Pansy smirked, watching the dark boy's face twist up with pain. (Oh, she had not forgotten that Cho used to play Quidditch and her strength was more than average.) "Fine. I suppose you need your fingers for her pleasure, anyway," she sighed, turning her wand back to the angry-faced Ravenclaw. "_Finite_."

There was a loud gasp of air.

_ Thump._

"You!" Cho snapped in fury as Blaise's legs hung over the ledge of the bench, ignoring her husband as his back collided with the marbled floor roughly.

"Relax, will you?" Pansy interjected, her wand raised again for protection. "You want an apology for the affectionate display you were giving? Alright! Draco, apologize to the witch." With her free hand, she motioned the wizard next to her to move along with the process. She had lots to do and couldn't waste time playing the role of the good friend. She rather be preparing things for her upcoming wedding than dealing with this rubbish.

Malfoy scoffed, looking arrogantly at the Ravenclaw. "I'm not apologizing to that lovey-dovey rubbish, pile of disgusting mush—"

"Draco, apologize!" Pansy hissed once more, smacking him with her wand across the head. "You want to have Zabini keep you company at night again?"

Grunting, Malfoy hesitantly dropped his frown. "Forgive me, Cho. Apparently, I need to ignore you two until you've come...back from your honeymoon."(…_You disgusting, friend-changing witch_, he thought after.)

"Very well, now we're done here." Pansy nodded, pocketing her death-stick into her robes. "Put some ice on that, Zabini, or you'll never get the circulation back," she commented indifferently, linking her arm through Draco's and steering him away from the Slytherin table.

None of the students of that house paid attention to Zabini's howl of pain or Cho mutterings of, "get over it. I didn't even squeeze that hard."

** X**

They were walking in silence—a complete tensed, awkward, pressured, odd, uncomfortable, annoying, irritating silence.

Pansy turned in an angle to face her friend, narrowing her eyes but he just kept looking forward; still trying to let his arm loose from her hold for the past ten minutes.

She narrowed her eyes even more, a frown on her face as they walked deeper into the grounds of their school in that stupid silence that was driving her up the damn wall.

"Draco," she sighed after another few more annoying moments of silence, letting the frustration out of her, "that's the second time this week that you manage to enrage Cho. Next time you won't be so fortunate, and she will end up cursing your manly-bits off."

Trying to cross his arms over his chest, pushing her arm again, Malfoy sent the girl one of his usual glares at her; and at any student that passed them as they looked at him with gossiping eyes. "I'd like to see her try, that manky witch." He shoved a younger Gryffindor from his path, scowling harder in his rage. "I liked it quite better when Blaise was just in it for the sex—"

"That's changed?" Pansy interrupted, raising an eyebrow.

But Malfoy seemed not to hear her as he continued with, "but _no_! All of a sudden it's Cho-this and Cho-that. Have you heard what he calls her?" He turned to her, and right when she opened her mouth to say something he interjected with, "he calls her '_my Coco-Cho'_—What the bloody hell is that?"

Pansy grimaced and tried to shake out the image of Blaise running behind the Ravenclaw and calling her pet-names. "Ugh," she shuddered, "well, I'd defend him and say that no one ever told us that once the marriage ceremony is presented that the dosage of feelings the couples have for one another multiplies. It's a sneaky way that the Ministry, I reckon, has conjured up so the marriages last, but then again...Zabini has always been a bit of a daft." (It was very true.) "You remember what he named his hamster when he was five? Called it 'Captain Ham-Bam Zabini'. Let's just hope Cho chooses the names for their kids when the time comes."

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed once again, but this time it was more of a weak, defeated puff of air than his usually angry ones. "….I can't escape from it," he muttered, forgetting about the hamster-subject. (He knew that she was bound to bring the fact that he hexed the furry-creature to its death and make him feel guilty for another thing.) "All that love thing...It's _everywhere_." He squinted his eyes as they turned to a grassy pathway, the sun hitting him directly on his silvery eyes.

"Drake, come off it. No one else is the problem, it's what you're feeling that's the problem."

"No, everyone else is the problem. When have _I _ever been the problem?" He scoffed. "If Blaise and his witch were to cut their affection, or keep it strictly in their chamber, I wouldn't be feeling anything in the first place."

Pansy pulled on his arm, steering him away from the hill that led down to the main grounds, but to the trees hidden around the Herbology greenhouses. "Draco, you've got to stop running from what you did. There's no point of the both of you being aggravated and handling this all wrong."

The blonde Slytherin frowned. "I don't know what you're talking about." Honestly, he really didn't. Wasn't he Draco Malfoy? Didn't he always have the right to do anything he pleased simply because he was magnificent? (It was his exclusive contract to the world when he was born, and he demanded that people remember that. No matter how times have changed.)

"You're impossible," his friend heaved. "You messed up, Malfoy—messed up badly. And now you've to accept the consequences of what _you _did and stop taking them out on others. Blaise nor Cho have any fault that you pretended to be high and mighty when clearly you were down in the gutter like the rest of us. You ruined the only good thing going for you, accept it."

Draco pushed her away.

"Oh, please," Pansy huffed, pushing him back as well, "do not try and act that way with me, Draco Malfoy. I know you perfectly well to know that you _do _love the little Gryffindor bookworm, and that she's the only good thing you have. You had nothing else before her, and you won't continue to have anything if you don't fix this mess."

As Draco opened his mouth to throw one of his warm-feeling, tingly insults at the girl, his eyes caught sight of a very famous group of three strutting their way towards the Slytherins without knowing. His gaze automatically zeroed in on the only witch caught in the middle of the two boys; her brown curls gleaming in the sun rays, illuminating the red-tints they naturally held as her brown eyes focused on the ground she walked on.

"Damn it," Malfoy mumbled urgently, already turning on his heels when Pansy stopped him by gripping his arm and keeping him in place.

"Oi, Pans!" Before Draco could shove his friend away so he could go run and hide, the idiotic redhead spotted his fiancée and began to wave his arm manically in the air. (And the Weasel thought Lavender Brown had issues?) "What are you doing here?"

Pulling the fabric of his robes tightly and securely, Pansy kept Malfoy in place and smiled happily at her soon-to-be-husband. "Taking a walk with Draco, love. Are you going somewhere?"

_Traitor_, Malfoy thought aggressively.

At the mention of the forbidden name, Hermione Granger looked away from the shoes of the Chosen One and connected her eyes with the haunting silver ones.

"Hermione—"

Taking a step back, Draco watched wide-eyed as Harry Potter whipped out his wand from inside of his robes and lifted it up towards the girl next to him, pointing it straight at her face. "_Muffliato_."

"What the hell, Potter!" Malfoy growled, his anger running up to his face, infecting it with a strong red hue as Hermione looked back at the floor and headed passed him, rushing away from him without a look back.

Harry shrugged. "Sorry, Malfoy, but when 'Mione gives me orders," he lowered his wand, his marriage ring throwing a ray of silver light as the sun hit it, "I must obey them. I've seen her wrath, and believe me, I will _not _face it for you." The Boy-Who-Lived glared from behind his glasses, looking a bit annoyed as Ron began to kiss the Slytherin witch; both of them obviously unaware of the previous interaction. (How they managed to leave their chamber fully dressed or without being glued at the mouth seemed a mystery to a lot of people.)

"I—needed—to—talk—to—her!" Draco hissed each word carefully, his fist shaking as he resisted the urge to launch himself on Potter and smash his glasses in. (Good luck seeing then, Boy-Who-Will-Not-Die-For-His-Own-Good!)

The Golden Gryffindor shrugged again. "Yeah, well, those were my orders." He gave him on off smile, not moved by the Slytherin's threatening glare. (He had 'faced' the blonde's wrath before, and Harry was positive he was still as pathetic as ever.) "She didn't want to hear a thing you had to say so there really wasn't an option, was there?"

Draco's fist shook harder, his anger bubbling like a potion left unattended in a cauldron.

Grimacing slightly at the still-going make-out session Ron and Pansy were getting into, Harry started moving his feet to get away fast. "Look, Malfoy, let's leave it clear, yeah? If Hermione goes through with her decision, consider yourself a dead ferret, that's all."

"Is that a threat?" Draco snapped back at the retreating figure of Harry Potter, an unexplainable pain drifting into his eyes at the thought of the Gryffindor Princess wiped away from everyone memories; from his.

**X**

_ 'She acts like we aren't Slytherins—'_ Blaise Zabini's voice rang loudly in a room pitch black. His words bounced off the walls like an echo, holding an effect of what seemed like misery and taunting._ 'We are known to be deceivers.' _

_'—But sometimes we do things without thinking them. It's a common mistake among the human race.'_ Another voice, a more silkier one was heard from the darkness. _'I would never hurt you.' _Draco Malfoy spoke, his voice sounding so caressing and soft. So unnatural of the way it usually was, no sneer or smugness present as his voice echoed around.

_ 'I don't believe you, Malfoy,'_ a girl whispered now, sounding thoroughly unconvinced. _'I'm not an idiot but,'_ Hermione sighed deeply, a gust of air that sounded hollow in the black room, _'I'm willing to try this. To actually try this, without kicking or complaining.'_

_ 'You won't regret it.'_ Somewhere in the darkness, Draco whispered.

_ '—Still have your swagger, I see.'_ Everything changed in the blackness, and the girl's voice sounded harsher, more annoyed.

A scoff echoed off the walls, one that clearly belonged to Draco Malfoy. '_Yes, Granger, it could've been easier and less awkward,'_ his voice matched her annoyance, _'but then I couldn't do it the right way...I wouldn't be my charming self if I let someone assign us a date that will tie us together for eternity.' _There was a pause in the darkness of the room. _'...Will you marry me?'_

_ 'Yes.'_

_ '—I've been thinking, Hermione,'_ there was a swift feel of wind and in the darkness Draco whispered, _'about the wedding, I mean.'_

_ 'And?' _Hermione murmured back. The silence of their voices seeming so appropriate at the time.

_'How would you feel about a summer wedding?' _He asked. _'I just assume it'd be easier for you since the final exams will be done by then and nothing could interfere with your studying in the Spring. I know that whole learning-rubbish is important to you, and we could...study together...'_

_ 'You're thinking about accommodating me, Draco?' _She asked, surprised.

_ 'I just want you to be happy.'_

_ '—I was trying to be considerate that you were sleeping merely because your mother asked me not to disturb her baby boy's precious dreams.'_ Another rush of wind blew in the room and Hermione's voice sounded infuriated off from the walls. _'Or else I would've barged in here like the uncivilized Muggle-Born that I am.'_

_ '—My plan is going perfectly well!"_ Malfoy hissed, his words echoing in the blinding darkness. '_If you, the smartest bloke in the castle, can see the love I developed for the Muggle-Born, then obviously I'm playing my cards right and even she has began to believe it!' _His anger could be heard boiling. _' I would never allow myself to love that filthy bookworm, even if I was tortured into it. I'm doing this for my benefit, like I've told you plenty of times before. This marriage is nothing but convenient for me and unlucky for her.' _

And as the wind blew inside of the dimmed room, all that was heard after that was the sound of a heart breaking and sobs forming in the distance.

"Hermione!"

Being shaken roughly by the shoulders, Hermione Granger snapped her eyes open instantly, looking alert and ready to defend herself by the strong clutch someone had on her upper-half.

"What are you doing here?" She slapped at the arms extended forward from her, her voice thick with sleep as her eyes adjusted to the face peering down at her.

The eyes looking at her were suddenly washed away from their worry, and the dark-orbs stared more calm at the brunette. "I've come to visit you of course."

Yawning, Hermione rubbed her eyes lazily and tried to settle her aching heart. "I appreciate the thought, Viktor, but why this late at night?"

Viktor Krum grinned sheepishly at her and knelt himself in front of her, staring at her with a hint of admiration in his face as he watched her pull on the massive tangled-mess on top of her head. (Oh, she was always so beautiful to him with her dorky manner.) "I know you have lessons to attend to all day, and McGonagall would only permit me visitation rights at this hour."

The witch raised her eyebrow. "McGonagall? She let you come and visit me?" A snort escaped from her throat. "I would've assumed that the Headmistress was still not in speaking terms with me, let alone allow you to visit me. I must've scored an excellent mark on her last exam to grant me something like this." She frowned a little to herself and said, "…she still can't look me in the eye for what I'm going to do."

"Actually, I've come to visit my fiancée, but what do you mean?" The Bulgarian knitted his thick brows together, looking puzzled. "What are you going to do, Hermione?"

"Your fiancée?" Was all she heard from the Bulgarian. "Your fiancée comes to Hogwarts? Viktor, why didn't you tell me sooner! And why are you even here, shouldn't you be with her?" Hermione's jaw dropped as she circled her fingers around the muscular wrist of the wizard in front of her. "No, absolutely not. You must go with her, and if there's time you can stop by, but—"

"I'm not leaving," Viktor interjected and pushed her fingers off from his wrist, taking the chance of that action to hold on to her hands. "What did you mean, Hermione? Why would McGonagall be upset with you? You have not been breaking the rules again, have you?"

The brunette glared. (Did she look like she would purposely break the rules? Come on! Half of the time that she was breaking them it was because of Harry! She would've ran straight to a teacher if it wasn't because most of them weren't to be trusted at the time.) "No, I have not been breaking any rules. McGonagall is just simply upset with me."

Viktor huffed. "The reason being?"

The witch swallowed and shrugged in his hold, feeling uncomfortable at his piercing eyes. "….I'm giving up my magic."

There was a moment of silence.

"I'm sorry, I don't understand," the Bulgarian blinked perplexed. "You, the girl who thrives on all the mysteries and knowledge in our world, is giving it all up just because?"

Hermione let out a quiet sigh. "I would never give it up just because, Viktor." She looked down at their clasped hands. "I live for everything that I've accomplished since I entered Hogwarts. On my merits, my friends, my memories, but all that is gone now. And erasing it all—"

"Erasing it all?" Viktor repeated, frowning disapprovingly at the girl.

"I'm running away," she said almost resentfully, a knot forming in her throat as her eyes quickly danced around the chamber. The reminders of the moments she lived in the particular room stabbed her inside the walls of her brain. "…I had strength enough to last me a lifetime, Viktor. With everything I've lived through, everything I've survived from, nothing had prepared me for what was to come. Because apparently Death Eaters and Voldemort were never really a danger to me. I could've taken any coward out in a heartbeat. It gave me an advantage to survive, but then...it all faded away and the enemy…the thing that was going to _b-break_ me all along was love."

Viktor gave Hermione's hands a squeeze, feeling a slight paranoid sensation tickle his chest as he saw her lower lip tremble. "…What did he do to you?"

"It's what_ I _did," she mumbled. "I fell in love with him." Hermione laughed humorlessly, the sound coming out so fake and resented as it slipped from her lips. "I fell in love with him, and that's all it took...Just him to finally break me down...

"Ron gets a kick from it, you know? Of how…Draco Malfoy spent years and years threatening me that one day he'd put a stop to me, and he finally did it...And in the way he least imagined it would happen. He didn't need a wand, he didn't need a weapon, all he needed was lies and a few words draped in pixie dust..."

Silence reigned for a few more seconds.

And then Krum let out a deep breath, trying to figure out what he was going to say next. "Hermione," he began, "you can't go through with this." He released one of her hands, then moved his fingers to the side of her rosy right cheek. "You can't run away from a person like him."

Hermione tried to pull her hand away, shaking her head. "I can't—"

"You can't let him win!" He shouted at her, exasperated. "You have to show him that you're better than this!"

"_I can't_!" Tears raced down the brunette's cheeks, yelling back with her misery multiplying as she finally let the pressure in her throat scream out. "I can't do that! I can't!" A loud sob escaped from her body, making her tremble as she attempted to slap her palms over her eyes. "I have n-no choice, Viktor. It's either give up my magic or be trapped seeing his face for the rest of my days. And I can't! I'm not strong enough for this!"

Krum tried steadying her hands, tried steadying her but she put on a fight as she kept shouting.

"I can face a monster, a group of murderers, but I cannot face heartbreak! I cannot let myself suffer from the humiliation he caused me! I rather erase it all and pretend like I never was a part of this…" Her voice lowered suddenly, " …and then I'll be free."

"Listen, Hermione," Viktor forced himself to clutch roughly on her wrists, frowning at her with all his anger—an emotion that he never connected with her. "He's not worth it. He's not worth you losing everything you have gained! What about your best friends? You can't run from something that can be fixed! You can demand a change! I can help you—"

"Oh, Viktor," Hermione laughed again, the true emotion far from there as her tears kept falling down her eyes, "that's impossible. I can't demand for a change. The Marriage Law is absolute, just as the pairing was. You're in it without complain of who you're with, or you are not. And I choose that way. I choose forgetting it all."

And then Viktor said the unexpected, "be with me," looking like it was the most brilliant thing he'd ever thought of. Flashes of hope sunk into his sharp features as he nodded his head, squeezing her fingers eagerly. "We can go to the Ministry, go to the Minister, even, and plead with him to place us together."

The witch shook her head, "it doesn't really work like—"

"Hermione, you know that I would never hurt you," he interrupted. "We can be friends, I'm okay with that. That way you wouldn't have to give anything up...And I promise, you'll never have to see that bastard ever again."

(Oh, the temptation. Who would not want Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Bonbon, International Quidditch Player, Experienced Wizard? The idea of him was just a knee-shaker for any woman. But that's the thing, she wasn't any woman.)

"…_No_," but clearly Hermione had her own ideas of what being with the Bulgarian was about. "The prospect of it, Viktor, is generous, but you were placed with the person you're most likely to fall in love with—who you will fall in love with. I can't come in between that. You deserve happiness. And being with someone who will only look at you as a friend is not the happiness I want for you," she reached forward and patted his cheek, her tears coming to a halt.

Krum's hope vanished instantly. "…You deserve better," he whispered, stretching forward to the brunette and wrapping his arms around her petite waist, feeling incapable as she began to cry when he towered over her. (So fragile.) "…You'll have a great life, Hermione, because you're simply amazing….With or without magic." His own tears began to burn behind his sockets.

He knew her well enough to know that there was no changing her mind. It was going to happen. She was going to disappear.

This was it.

"—Stop!"

"Get out the way—"

_ Bang._

The door of Hermione's chamber burst open and then tumbling in came Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy. Both of them looked red in the face, bewildered eyes as they gaped at the close embrace Hermione and a dark-haired wizard had with each other.

"Krum?" The two wizards asked, raising their eyebrows as the Bulgarian turned to frown at them.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked.

Shoving Potter aside for asking such an idiotic question, Malfoy hissed, "how the bloody hell do you keep getting in?"

No one answered him. The brunette and the out-of-place wizard stared at both of them with a bit of a shock.

Harry cleared his throat. "Sorry, 'Mione," he mumbled at the surprised eyes of his best friend as she looked straight at the Slytherin instead of him. "I tried to stop him, but he slithered his way past me." No pun intended, he assured. "I tried to contain him but he managed to block my hex."

Without responding or looking at any of the three boys, Hermione got up from the couch and headed towards the door with her heartbreak coming back to life. Her tears ran much faster down their trail as they caught a glimpse of the silvery eyes they longed and missed.

"'Mione—"

"No, I'll go." Viktor grabbed Harry's arm before he could sprint after the girl.

"You aren't going anywhere," Draco snarled, pushing Krum's hold away from Harry's arm. "She's _my_ fiancée. And if rumor has it around the Slytherin common room, yours is Daphne Greengrass so I suggest you go and find her and leave mine alone."

The Bulgarian raised his dark eyebrow high, staring at the blonde Slytherin with an indifferent expression and a hidden sensation to break his face. "It's a shame she was not mine to claim, Malfoy, but you're certainly a pathetic idiot." And Viktor Krum walked casually towards the door with nothing else said.

"Pathetic?" Malfoy growled, his wand suddenly being held by his left fingers tightly as he pointed it forward.

"—_Protego_!" Harry pointed his wand at the back of the famous Quidditch player; waiting until he was gone to let the shield down and face Malfoy. "There's no need to throw a hissy-fit, Malfoy, you've already caused your damage. What more do you want?"

Turning his wand now at the mighty Savior of the Wizarding World, Malfoy snapped a, "must you get involved in everything, Potter?" The two enemies glared at each other. "Do you honestly have the flare of being the ruddy hero, the center of fucking attention all the time that you stick your nose where it doesn't belong? Because in case you haven't noticed this is my matter not yours!"

"You made it my matter when you dragged Hermione into this," Harry snapped back. "And last time I checked, you didn't have a problem with my flare when I was saving you from the cursed-fire your daft friend caused that almost led you to your death."

Like receiving a smack on the face, Draco Malfoy lowered his wand and stared shockingly at the Gryffindor. (Touché, touché.) "I made a mistake, Potter," he said in a harsh voice, through clenched teeth as that pain swam back into his grey eyes.

"Clearly," Harry huffed, still holding on to his wand tightly.

And before his once archenemy could walk away and leave him in that haunting chamber, Malfoy blurted, "I need your help."

Harry turned slowly, eyebrow raised. "What?"

"I need your help, Potter," Draco repeated, forcing down his pride as it threatened to explode out and attack the Chosen One with a good hex. "…I need to fix this, alright. I need to make this better. I cannot let her do this...I can't lose her."

"But you hate her, Malfoy," the bespectacled wizard kept his eyebrow up; appearing to be confused.

Malfoy cleared his throat, settling his pride again. "…I don't."

Harry crossed his arms, scowling at the blonde boy with his emerald eyes. "Give me a reason, Malfoy," his voice was almost threatening, warning even, "a solid reason to help you and I may consider it."

"Because you need this too," Draco mumbled, his voice coming out a bit shaky for his liking. (He was never going to live this down, he knew it.) "Because you don't want her to go through with this...Because you need her."

"I do," Harry admitted, his glare softening at the intense hurt on Malfoy's face, "but Hermione's happiness matters to me much more than my own. And if her happiness is away from our world, away from us, away from _you_...I rather her be gone forever than to live in misery."

The two stared defiantly at one another, the Gryffindor and Slytherin with their common hate pushed aside to try and find a link in which the two could be true to one another. Where the two could reach a small peak where they could be friends, where they could leave aside their prides and allow themselves to be honest so they could save a life.

And then Draco said it, clear as can be. "I love her."

Harry Potter lowered his wand, looking less surprised than Malfoy was expecting as the words left his lips and he confessed what he couldn't before. "Very well," he extended his free hand towards the Slytherin, waiting for him to take it. (Both of them looking momentarily repulsed and hesitant.) "I can help you."

_ 'Honestly. I don't know why you two spent all these years hating each other. You make a bloody wicked team.' _

Oh, how right Ginny Weasley had been.


	25. Being Miserable at Best

**Chapter Twenty-five**

Squinting at her reflection in the full-length mirror floating in the air, the recently-turned Weasley to Potter huffed in annoyance. "Please tell me my dress selection was not as terrible as this." Ginny glared roughly, her eyes flickering away from the dress on her body to the brunette in the background. "Because if it was, you tell me right now. If I made you look like a bloody fool, tell me!"

Sitting on a nearby stool, trying to fix her flattened curls that Ginny had taken the liberty to magically-straighten into a half-do, Hermione tried not to make eye-contact with the redhead as she concentrated on her work. (Nothing but mere perfection was expected from today, or someone would have her head. Literally.)

"The dresses are fine, Gin," Hermione said to her friend.

Ginny opened her mouth, her fingers now tangled into her silky waves—magically bouncy, of course—and stared at the brunette with a look of hysteria on her face as she pulled on her hair.

"And for the thirtieth time, _no_. You should not temporarily dye your hair black. Leave it as it is or I'll be forced to confiscate your wand."

Ginny frowned. "It's red, Hermione, _red_! How do you expect it to coordinate with this?" She pulled down the v-neck of her deep-pink bridesmaid dress, glaring at her friend as she stomped her same-colored heels on the carpeted floor.

"—Will you shut up?" The door to the room burst open, startling the two girls at once. "I can hear you complaining from the bathroom, and it's three levels away!" An angry-faced Pansy Parkinson stood by the entrance, wrapped in a bathrobe with her usually neck-long hair curled into perfect ringlets flowing around her shoulders. (Was there anything they didn't keep natural today?) "The color of the dresses will stay the same, you will not alter your features, and you will stop shouting or _get out_!"

Hermione hung her head down, suddenly finding the carpet of the room to be far more interesting than the two witches in front of her.

"I'm...sorry, Pansy," Ginny murmured, her teeth clenching visibly as she smoothed the fabric of her dress down. "This really is a lovely dress and I promise I'll stop complaining."

"Good," Pansy exhaled and the anger quickly wiped itself from her perfectly, painted face. "I didn't want to have to dismiss you, Ginny. You know I need you there."

Ginny gave a soft smile. "Yeah, I didn't want to have to leave either," she said in a light sarcastic tone. Because, come on, it was her room, her house, her garden, and her brother, so technically she was the one who would have to leave. But seeing as Ginny has always been a kind girl, she would allow the Slytherin witch to marry her brother as long as she got him out the Burrow quickly.

"Of course not," Pansy smirked, closing the door behind her and pulling on the knot that held her bathrobe together. "It's the wedding of the decade after all. And, not to forget that I wouldn't survive if you left, I suppose."

The redhead rolled her eyes. (Oh yes, like they'd be talking about Pansy Parkinson and Ron Weasley's wedding instead of Harry Potter's. _Ha_. Half of the reporters that will somehow end up hiding behind the bushes of the Burrow will end up focusing on the Boy-Who-Lived and every step he gave with the Girl-Who-Tied-Him-Down. Talk about Pansy's future tantrum.) "Mum's still crying, is she?"

"Like Moaning Myrtle!" The dark-haired witch grunted, flinging her pink bathrobe—as odd and unnatural as it seemed—towards Ginny's bed. "When I apparated here I found her crying in Ron's old room with a box of tissues and his toddler album. She looked like she'd been up since before dawn. It scared me greatly, I almost ran for it."

Finding it safe again, Hermione said, "she couldn't have been _that _bad," she blinked at them from her corner stool, "she only cried three times at Ginny's wedding. And that was when she saw Harry, during the ceremony, and when they apparated away."

Pansy raised her eyebrow. "Clearly, Hermione, you left earlier than Ron and I did. She almost had Charlie and Bill go after Potter and nick Ginny back. She started crying hysterically that even Mister Weasley made a go after the first hour. It was getting embarrassing."

"She's just a bit sensitive," Ginny sighed, thinking to how her mother practically looked like she wanted to tug her back from the aisle on her wedding day by the veil of her dress. "She's gotten so used to us all these years, all of us so packed up in here, taking up every bit of space, and then suddenly we're all leaving one by one.

"Bill was the first, of course. Then Charlie, Percy, Fred..." She swallowed a lump, and directed a smile at her soon-to-be sister-in-law like those painful emotions didn't crawl down to her throat. Choosing to forget the subject before it got depressing. "The point is, she expected that after our final years at Hogwarts that Ron, Harry, Hermione and I would still be here. I expect that it's hard for her to imagine the Burrow to suddenly so silent."

"Yeah, well, we'll always come and visit," Pansy replied casually, shoving the redhead away from the full-length mirror, and proceeded to direct her light-pink painted eyes towards her naked figure.

Alright, maybe she wasn't naked naked exactly; that would obviously mean that she'd fully accepted some kind of comfortableness with the two bridesmaids, and she just wasn't at that level yet. So instead she stood in her undergarments just to make herself feel like the old Pansy, cold and bitchy.

_Ah, those were the days, _she thought to herself with a withered smug, glancing at her reflection.

Ginny snorted. "Sure you will, Parkinson." The sarcasm was hard to miss.

Pansy narrowed her eyes. "We will, alright. Once we're out of school, which won't be that long from now, I'll make sure Ron and I stop by every Sunday." She ignored the redhead and then began glaring at the small roll that formed on her side of her stomach. "I'll be damned if I let the traditions of my family get to him," she tried to repress a sentimental sigh, but failed. "…Merlin knows I won't be seeing my parents after this."

Turning to each other, Ginny and Hermione exchanged a knowing stare. (Mister Parkinson was sure to disinherit his little Pureblooded Princess when she bestowed the surname of the greatest Blood Traitors known to all Wizard-kind.)

"Don't feel so terrible, Pans. There are plenty of Weasleys to go around for centuries to come. And mind you, you're about to become one. In our clan, there's nothing we wouldn't do for each other." Smiling for the first time since she slipped into the tragic deep-pink dress, Ginny placed a comforting hand on the bride's bare shoulder. "We're family."

And in the crystal-glass ahead of her, Pansy directed a quick view at the hand upon her shoulder; a knot of emotions formed themselves at the pit of her throat.

Family.

Growing up in the dark times meant being spoiled for the Parkinsons only daughter. Always getting what she wanted, always superior above the rest of the filth that collected themselves at Hogwarts. Always the coldhearted one, taught never to trust and befriend the enemy or to get too near to others. Always secluded from other girls, never having a true friend. Always left alone when her parents were to busy 'changing' the world, never knowing what being held by a sibling, caressed by a parent, loved by others actually meant or felt like.

Until now; all until now of course. It was like a new world had painted itself and opened its doors for her, inviting her in without any struggle, without any effort, without any pretenses.

"….Quit getting sentimental, Ginny," Pansy smirked into the mirror, her dark eyes watering and blurring her view of the redhead's face. "This is my wedding, and I expect to be the center of attention."

Going along with the show, Ginny frowned at the Slytherin girl and made sure her words came out extra sarcastic. (She hoped Pansy considered it an additional wedding gift.) "Oh yes, Parkinson, because this really is all about _you_. I keep forgetting that you're walking down the aisle by yourself and marrying your gigantic ego. I'll make sure to tip-off Ron before he ends up as snake food."

Pansy laughed mockingly and then walked over to the small closet in Ginny's room. "You'll be lucky that you'll get me as a sister-in-law. I've seen the others, nothing so interesting there if you ask me."

"If I asked you, you wouldn't take notice of anyone else." Ginny tried not to laugh.

Leering halfheartedly, not really paying any more attention to the sentiments in the air, Pansy stared lovingly at the white dress hanging inside the old closet.

_ Bang._

"—Am I late?"

"Oi! Get out of here!" Ginny whipped out her wand and directed it to the entrance of her door. "What's wrong with you?"

"Ronald," Hermione sighed, making herself noticed once more after the bizarre interaction between Pansy and Ginny ended. "Don't you know it's bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?" She scowled at the tall, redheaded wizard dressed in velvety robes.

"I was just making sure," Ron snapped in his defense, glaring at his sister and at his best friend. "I woke up late, Harry took forever in the shower, Mum wouldn't feed me, George magicked my robes maroon, and Dean told me Pansy made a run for it."

The redheaded bridesmaid lowered her wand as the image of her ex-boyfriend invaded her thoughts. "Dean's here?" And then her eccentric blonde friend entered her thoughts as well. "Luna's here too?"

Ron snorted. "Obviously. She gave Mum an excuse that she was going to go talk to the gnomes, then Dean told Harry that he needed a bit of fresh air a minute after. The two haven't been seen since then. Although, Harry claims he heard the gnomes giggling about something by the shed."

Gagging internally, Hermione stood from the stool. (She was never going to get used to the idea of Luna Lovegood maturing in such ways. It seemed so unnatural and sadistic that she had to resist the urge of dipping her into a tub full of muggle Holy-water.) "Ron, just go before Ginny curses you. Pansy will be ready in a bit."

Nodding in agreement, Ginny shoved her older brother back from her room. "Don't you know that you can't see the bride in her unmentionables until after the wedding either?" She raised her wand again and smirked at Ron. "Don't make me tell Mum you're disrespecting her house."

"Funny, Gin," he rolled his eyes as his soon-to-be bride laughed lightly from behind the current scene, "but who do you think chose those lacy things for her today?"

Gasping and hissing, Hermione and Ginny shouted, "_get out_!"

(Oh, the mental images—how sickening.)

"You two shouldn't even be allowed to get married!" The redhead girl glared at Pansy as she slammed the door in her brother's face with a swift back-kick.

Hermione scoffed. "What are you talking about, Gin? She shouldn't even be allowed to walk down the aisle in a white dress."

Smirking at them, Pansy stuck her middle finger out at both witches. "_Please_," she snorted, "whatever happened in our chamber is between us and the Ministry. We were just being good students and doing our homework."

Hermione and Ginny scowled at her disapprovingly.

"Did they, or did they not say to speed up the fornication process and pop out those kids to save our world?" Pansy asked them, scowling back but more humorously. "We were just being good citizens."

Hermione still looked disgusted, rolling her eyes. They were so going to be responsible for the entire next generation of the Weasley children to sprout, she knew it.

**X**

"Ronald Billius Weasley—" From where the guests sat in various directions that the chairs were aligned on the Burrow's garden, one was able to see the wrinkled nose of the Groom as the Ministry Official used his middle name. (Oh, the embarrassment.)

"…I thought they were supposed to leave that out?" Angelina Johnson murmured to the grinning George Weasley sitting on her right.

Whispering back, George said, "well, apparently they didn't, Angie." His freckly cheeks turned a scarlet color as he turned his neck in a small angle and caught a glimpse of Harry, Ginny and Hermione; all three grinning mockingly too. "…Poor Ronnikens, he must feel immensely embarrassed."

_Wham._

"Shut it, George," Bill hissed dangerously low, removing the back of his left palm from the side of brother's head; all the while his free hand rubbed soothing circles on his pregnant wife's leg as she cried into a handkerchief.

"...Oh, 'ee grew up so fast," Fleur Weasley was heard from the background as George sent his older brother a deep glare.

"—Do you, Pansy Parkinson," the voice of the Ministry Official echoed from person to person, silence reigning again as he looked at the bride, "take this wizard to be eternally yours, to accept his soul, to magically bind you two through his accomplishments, his failures, his health, his sickness, his joy, his anger, his everything for the rest of your days?"

Swallowing the blissful knot in her throat, Pansy nodded delicately. "I do."

The old Ministry Official smiled at the Bride and Groom. "I declare you two bonded for life, blessed in this sacred union, man and wife." He raised his hands to the newlywed couple in front of him but looked at the guests. "I give you, Ron and Pansy Weasley!"

All at once—in what looked like a massive wave of red hair—the original Weasleys stood first, almost automatically. And the soon-to-be and those adopted into their fast-growing clan rose together and clapped thunderously at the sight of Pansy and Ron leaning towards each other.

"Get it, Ron!" Seamus Finnegan was heard from all the clapping and cheering as he stood on his chair and jeered at the couple.

"Make him yours, Pans! Snog him right!" Joining Finnegan by crawling on top of a chair next to his, Blaise Zabini raised his arm and started punching the air with pride. "Slytherin! Slytherin!"

Standing beside the two howling boys, Cho took a cautious backwards step from them.

"Just walk away, Cho," Lavender Brown told her as she also stared at her fiancée with great embarrassment. "Just walk away." And she pulled the Ravenclaw girl by her arm and away from the two thickheads on top of the chairs and headed to find the drinks.

Laughing loudly, eyes flickered for a second to the massive sprout of Slytherins and Gryffindors shouting obscenities at the new Weasley couple in unison, Harry placed a warm hand on his best friend's waist as she scowled at the crudeness of it all. "Who would've ever imagined that the house-unity Dumbledore always encouraged would actually pay off one day, eh, 'Mione?"

The brunette huffed and crossed her arms.

Harry grinned at her. "Made a break for it, did you?" He nodded over to the redheaded group.

The brunette nodded, pushing Harry's hand away from her bridesmaid's dress. "I was going to go congratulate Ron, but Mrs. Weasley threw me out of the way before I even took the first step," she explained to him. "And once I tried to get to Pansy, Ginny beat me to it. I just assumed it was safer until all the Weasleys got their blessings out of the way before I attempted it again."

"—Get with the times, old man!" Blaise shouted, waving at Pansy's father as he gave him a deep frown from his 'Make him a man, Pansy!' comment. (Blaise was officially off the Parkinsons Christmas list.)

Harry nodded once, understanding perfectly; even ignoring the little fact that she pushed his hold away from her. "I prefer stepping out of the picture when they all gather like that," he then pressed his palm to the small of her back and pushed her away from the crowd. "It makes me feel a bit out of place."

Sighing in defeat, Hermione turned her raised eyebrow at her best friend. She knew that Harry always felt somewhat of an outcast when it came to being around the Weasleys, just like she did, but both of them had refrained from speaking the subject out loud; especially to each other because they were grateful for the entire Weasley clan.

"Well, you better get used to it, Harry," Hermione whispered to him as they walked softly. "You're bound to attend at least three other Weasley weddings, and not to mention the holidays that are going to emerge from them. You know that the Weasleys never do anything ordinary or simple. You will always be surrounded by people, whether you like it or not."

"Thank Merlin, then, that I don't have some twisted claustrophobic disorder," Harry laughed, grinning as the bright sun washed over their faces and the light wind blew all around them as they stepped into the furthest part of the garden. "If I did, I would've never survived with them for all these years."

Hermione looked over to the scenery for a few seconds, trying to bask in the sun for a few moments, trying to warm herself in that constant coldness she felt inside of her. "…And the more to come," she finally replied, whispering as she crossed her arms over her chest as she stepped away from Harry's hand more politely than she had the first time. "Remember, Harry, that you're their family now. _You always have been_, but at least you should be content and willing to be a part of the celebration now that the holiest of bonds joins you and Ginny together. You have nothing to walk away from."

Harry's smile was erased from his face and his bespectacled emerald eyes looked momentarily saddened. "…Mrs. Weasley is very hurt with you, you know?"

"Why's that?" The brunette asked, her eyes looking far into the sun and the fluffy white clouds in the skies above to bother to look at him. She'd barely managed to hear what her friend said, her mind was calculating that the hue of the clouds, when the sun was setting, looked alike a certain Slytherin's hair when the sunrays hit his silky blonde strands.

"Yesterday, when we arrived from Hogwarts early to set everything up before the wedding, she said you locked yourself in the restroom for hours. She mentioned that she heard you crying." He paused, waiting for Hermione to say something, anything. But when nothing came, he heaved a sigh and continued. "Mrs. Weasley is afraid that now that Pansy is legally joining the family you suddenly feel like you don't belong anymore. Said she imagined you felt.…after being sort of Ron's girlfriend for so long….that you'd think you weren't welcomed anymore."

Pansy. Slytherin. Pureblood. Bitch. Blaise. Friends. Wedding. Guests. People. Wedding. No appearance. _Malfoy_—Hermione's thoughts were going haywire.

"That's silly of her," Hermione responded, her attention now away from the sky but instead on the fact that one particular Slytherin did not attend his friend's wedding. That he was not there to sneer and make fun of the bride when she shed happy tears, nor had he been there to join his house-mates.

Malfoy had not come.

She cleared her throat, trying to focus once more. "Although we never fancied hearing it, I've always known Mrs. Weasley, alike every other member of her family, has seen us as more than Ron's friends, Harry."

Harry knitted his brows together. "And the crying?"

"You've got to be strong, Harry, you know that," she mumbled, feeling a slight chill run up her spine as the swift air smacked against her fuchsia dress. "You've got to let go of that insecurity, that humbleness that you so desperately cling onto. _Feel _a part of them, Harry, because you've always been one of them. There won't be another outcast to talk to from now on, so just go with it."

The Chosen One felt his heart sink to the pit of his chest as his best friend—_his sister_—turned a watery gaze at him. The bright colors of the sky illuminated her broken expression more than he ever was used to seeing upon her face. "What's that suppose to mean, 'Mione?"

Silence for a few seconds; the wind pushing past them to go join the celebration they left yards away.

"…Don't worry, Harry," a heavy pressure scraped all of Hermione's insides, jabbing at her organs, making its way painfully up her chest and throat, "you won't remember a thing...You'll never know that there used to…that there used to be a bossy little know-it-all holding on to your arm wherever you went...You'll n-never remember that I was there."

"_Hermione_—"

Hermione shook her head, "it's time, Harry." Tears pooled into her eyes, but she was so used to them now that she didn't feel them slowly trace down her cheeks. "I got the meeting at the Ministry three days ago. Kingsley scheduled it for today, just like I asked. I just…I wanted to be able to s-see both of my best friends get married...Although I'll never register it after this...I just wanted to see you two be happy."

"You can't!" Harry hissed, looking very appalled at the girl in front of him. "Hermione, you can't go! You're mental! _Mental_! Do you even know what you're saying?"

"…I actually do."

Feeling a bolt of anger flash into his head, Harry frowned deeper than he'd ever had at Hermione. (He didn't remember ever having the strong and dire need to strike her. Not even when she practically handed his Firebolt to McGonagall his Third Year.) "Don't, alright," he snapped at her. "You're making a huge mistake, Hermione. Malfoy...Draco...he loves you! I _know _that he does. You've got to believe me! If you would just—"

"I appreciate the effort to keep me here, Harry," Hermione had to resist the sob that was threatening to seep out of her lips as her best friend mentioned the forbidden name, "but I'm going to ask you to stop using those means to make me stay. I want this. I need this. And once again, I find myself telling you first because you're far more level-headed than Ron."

Harry glared, not complimented.

Hermione sighed. "…And I need a favor."

"What?" He practically growled. (It's like she didn't even hear the certainty of his voice when he told her that the Bouncing Ferret did in fact love her! Wasn't she supposed to know him more than anyone else?)

"Come with me," her brown eyes stared directly into his green, "to the Ministry."

"_What_?" Harry repeated, his eyes wider behind his glasses and less angry.

Her eyes softened at his surprise, at his confusion. "Just...Just take me there, Harry. You don't have to stay... I just would like you there."

"You want me to watch you leave our lives," the Boy-Who-Lived hissed again, "or do you want me to be utterly confused of why I left my wife to accompany an unknown muggle to the Ministry when I should be celebrating my best friend's marriage?"

Hermione repressed a sigh, trying to control the emotions poking at her heart. "You're the closest thing I have to family here in the Wizarding World, Harry. And I want to be able to leave it with my brother by my side." More tears streamed out, her face even more brokenhearted. "Just…one more adventure, Harry. One more."

As he stared at her, as his own heart broke and he felt like he was going to break down his walls of confinement and cry with her, Harry Potter thought of one thing instantly to keep his composure. One thing, one person that could change this—Malfoy.

This was it. The moment they'd been looking for to make everything right.

"I'll never forgive you for this, Hermione Granger," Harry cleared his throat and speaking to the brunette gently. All while his head rushed with calculations at how fast his Patronous could reach the Malfoy Manor if he distracted Hermione for a few seconds.

The brunette gave him a shaky grin. "Is that a yes?"

"I'll go bring you a sweater," Harry commented, noticing her shiver as the wind blew again, giving him a perfect reason not to answer and leave her for a moment or two.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously.

"I'll be back, 'Mione, promise."

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Come back, Harry—_alone_."

"I will." Harry nodded. "Although, I do see why there's no point of saying goodbye to them, anyway. You won't even remember it, and it's not worth the tears and protests."

Hermione's bad attempt of a smile withered completely, knowing perfectly that he was right and that there really wasn't a reason to say goodbye to all those people that she loved. She wouldn't remember them anyway, wouldn't know who they were if they passed her on the open street of muggle London after this.

So, with that already settled between them, she said,"….you've got a minute, Brother."

"A minute it is," Harry repeated, dashing towards the Burrow and whipping out his wand as secretively as possible so the brunette couldn't see it in mid-sprint.

"—To Ronald Billius!"

"_George!_" Slap.

Hermione gave a quivering chuckle as the voices of Molly Weasley and her son echoed from where she stood all alone and with a broken heart as the celebration for Ron and Pansy's wedding kicked into full-blast. Happiness and love, joy and unity, family and friendship taking over every person cheering, dancing, and laughing along with the new married couple to notice where she stood. No, they didn't need to even bother with one broken heart when the world was perfectly alright for everyone else.

And that's how she wanted it to be. That's how she wanted to go.

"...I doubt I'll forget you, Draco. Even if they wipe my memories clean," she whispered to the wind. But, oh, was she going to try.

She was leaving it all just to get rid of those haunting silver eyes in her dreams and in her head; just to forget that she ever dared to feel something for him. She just wanted to forget that she ever felt his soft touch, his smooth lips, his caressing words upon her skin that seeped in and ignited her soul. She was saying goodbye to it all, forever and ever.

Because from the moment she steps foot into Kingsley Shacklebolt's office, Hermione Granger—one-third of the Golden Trio, War Hero, Brightest Witch of the Age, Draco Malfoy's fiancée—would cease to exist.

She would no longer be a witch, and that's where the story will end.


	26. The Easiest Way to Azkaban

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

_'It can't be that bad, can it?'_ Draco Malfoy's voice sounded far and distant, a small trace of an echo to every word. An echo that bounced off the dark, invisible walls of his head with some sort of pain and anguish.

_ 'How can you be so sure?'_ Another voice, a girl's voice spoke. It was his girl, his witch—Hermione Granger. '_Why is it that you, the cowardly ferret, are not afraid of this? How can you just take it so lightly; have you no plans of the future? Wasn't there something you wanted to do that didn't involve changing diapers?'_

"—Do you have a pass?" A woman behind a tall desk, thick glasses and a bored expression on her face asked as Draco Malfoy waited for the doors of the elevator to open. "Excuse me, sir, do you have a—"

Ding.

"Sir!" The elder witch protested, frowning after the blonde's figure as he pushed his way into the elevator; shoving the people exiting it with force. She watched him jab at a button on the right side, making it close rapidly before anyone else could attempt to get inside of it. (Well, apparently he didn't care that all those people were certainly going to be late.)

_ 'I'm not afraid, _bookworm_,'_ he heard the memory of his voice sound in his head once more. There was a hint of anger in it, but as he breathed deeply and closed his eyes as he waited for the elevator to come to a stop, he saw that in his memory he was smiling through his eyes at the brunette laying on him. He had to take another deep inhale as he could still feel her head upon his chest and the smell of her hair in his nostrils. '_…Because I will have you by my side,'_ the memory continued,_ 'and yes, there are plenty of things I wanted to do, but now I don't have to do them on my own. I'll have a wife, and a child as it seems, that I can make proud when I do succeed in them. And I take it lightly because I know you, Hermione. I've seen you with Teddy, and you'll be an excellent mother.'_

There was a pause in his head. _'You - you actually want me to be the mother of your children?'_ Malfoy could still hear the astonishment in Hermione's voice. _'…Do you think we can make this work?"_

_'Granger,'_ Draco's voice spoke again in his head, this time sounding further away; like it was not reflecting off the walls of his brain or playing behind his eyelids, but instead playing in a faraway room that the words were hard to figure out. _'I don't have the choice to decide, you'll be it any way. But, yes, I'm glad that it will be you…Because together, we can make it work.'_ And even as the memory was fading from his head, he knew he meant every single word.

He always had, always.

Ding.

The door to the elevator opened and Draco pushed a couple of small wizards dressed in navy robes aside as he rushed out of the doors. His breath became hallow and his heart beat rapidly with fear running in his veins as he continued his hurried path towards his destination. (He had a couple of moments to get there. There was no time to be considerate at any wizard or witches that crossed him.)

_ 'Mmm, Malfoy,' _as the blonde wizard kept racing down the tiled floor underneath his feet, another memory played in his head. One that seemed more excruciating, more painful than anything as he inhaled the cold air of the building and his heart seemed to lurch as the voices started speaking. _'It's time to get up now.'_

_'Make me,'_ Draco heard himself hiss, the sound of ruffling bed-sheets and the mattress squeaking as a body tossed played in his ears.

_'Come on, Draco,'_ Hermione drawled with a bit of amusement in her voice, a tiny bit annoyance mixing as she called him. There was always a sense of bliss when she spoke his name then, he could tell even from the memory. It was almost as if the world was alright when she said it. Like the barriers that kept them together long ago suddenly never existed. _'It's past eleven, and if McGonagall notices that we're not among the other students, she will come search for us.'_

Draco heard himself scoff with a sleepy tone. _'It's a bloody Saturday. Can't the old hag shove off for a day?'_

_ 'No,'_ Malfoy could already see the eye-roll that the Gryffindor gave, even as his eyes were wide open and he raced down a flight of stairs. '_Now, quit being a whiny brat and get up. We've got to go to Blaise's rehearsal dinner.'_

_ 'He's getting married, he's already screwed. Why must there be a need to practice getting fucked over for?'_

_ 'Fine then,'_ the witch sighed inside of Draco's head, _'lay here until you stop being a complete flobberworm, and wait to meet McGonagall's outraged eyes when she finds you in that very naked state that you're in. And once she bans you from our chamber, you can forget about me ever laying a hand on you again.'_

Inside of the Slytherin's head, Malfoy opened his eyes largely and cast a shocked look at his fiancée. He stared at her glowing figure with mesmerized eyes for a few silent seconds. (He couldn't deny that wrapped in the sheets, completely naked and with her brown curls a complete mess is when the Gryffindor Princess looked more beautiful than ever to him. Beautiful in her natural state, that is.). _'Wait, _what_? You…You're actually acknowledging this?'_

Hermione tossed on her side of the mattress, turning slowly towards Draco's wide eyes. The memory of the sheets ruffling against her body echoed roughly as he was still running._ 'Well, it's sort of hard to deny this, Malfoy. I mean, what if one is to ask me how I lost my virginity? I can't simply reply '_I dunno where it went. I must've lost it when I was flying that Dragon while escaping Gringotts last year. I knew it was flying too fast!' _Come on now, Malfoy, I thought you were smarter than that.'_

Draco could see the memory of him scowl at the naked brunette looking at him with mock amusement._ 'Have you always been this carefree about sex? My, my, my. The Gryffindor Goody-Too-Shoe's is a loose wench. Who would've thought that underneath all those layers of robes and bird's nest you call hair there was actually an attractive witch?'_

_'Don't make me curse you, Malfoy. It'll be quite embarrassing for you, believe me, if they find you naked with your white ass in the air and your manly bits barely hanging on.'_

_ 'Oh, now they bother you, do they, Granger?'_ Draco's huff echoed around. _'Because they certainty didn't with your bestiality yesterday evening, begging for more.'_

He could see her behind his open eyelids, her face a light pink as she looked a little embarrassed and ill-eased. _'…Was it that bad?'_

There was another pause in his memory, her face washing out for a quick moment as Malfoy jumped over bucket and mop as he heard another witch yell after him.

"—Sir! Excuse me, you need a pass!"

"Call down a security member, Daisy!" An old man that was glaring after Malfoy's running trail hissed as no one made an attempt to stop the insolent teenager. "For Merlin's sake, woman, do your ruddy job! That boy might be trying to kill one of us!"

"He's just a boy, Frank, honestly," the woman named Daisy sighed from her desk. "Besides, he's heading towards the Minister's office, the guards won't allow him to pass there without permission."

The old man glared at her, his wrinkles deepening. "This is why this place is going down the loo! In my times—"

"In your times, Frank, there was no Ministry and people ran around acting like a pack of trolls!"

The rest of the conversation between the Ministry workers was lost when Hermione's flushed face entered his mind as he didn't stop running._ '—Of course not, Granger. How can you even say that?'_

_ 'I…'_ she flushed more.

Malfoy stopped in one of the vacant halls, taking in a long breath and trying to dim the pain piercing his left side as small beads of sweat started collecting themselves on his forehead. The collar of his white shirt twisted in odd angles as he pulled on it, trying to take in more of the air that he had lost during his ongoing run.

_ 'I…I just,' _she cleared her throat, speaking again nervously, _'I want you to know that I….'_

_ 'Do you regret it?'_ He heard himself ask her, cutting across her. He closed his eyelids, just to see the vague image of his arm stretching towards her; his fingers running on her cheek softly.

_'No, I can't say that I do._' Malfoy had to make himself start running again as the memory of the Gryffindor's smile played in his head. An urge to scream filled his chest. '_You don't regret it, right? I know you've had your fair share of experiences, mind you, and that I haven't had a clue with what I was doing—'_

_ 'Shut up, Hermione.'_ Draco saw one of his fingers move from her cheek and onto her lips; silencing her completely. _'Look, whatever you heard around the halls of this ruddy castle is not entirely true, alright. I mean, sure, I've been known to be an incredibly handsome bloke to many, but,' _Draco could see Hermione's brown eyes rolling in annoyance at his comment, _'..but _nothing_ has ever meant so much to me like you and this.'_

_ 'Really?' _Hermione's voice echoed inside of Malfoy's head as she mumbled behind his finger.

_ '…Yes,'_ Draco whispered back, and he could see himself leaning towards the flushed brunette to capture her lips.

The memory after their first time together, their first intimate moment ever shared between them that allowed them to be true to what they were starting to feel for one another faded from his head, the voices disappearing too as Draco focused all his brainpower to clutch his palms into fists as the urge to scream became harder to contain.

It had been the perfect moment—the moment to tell her that he loved her more than anything. It was the perfect moment, he had known, since she had surrendered her virtue to him, something that no girl had ever done before. He had never been graced with someone's complete trust, with someone's complete faith that they will be okay in his arms until she came along. She had been he first, regardless of the other witches.

Hermione had been the first, that first of his everything pure.

She had been the first person that he ever held in his arms and actually enjoyed the feel of her soft skin on his as he allowed himself to embrace her closely. She had been the first that gave him the angst feeling whenever she would leave; the first he had ever counted the minutes for until she was back and he was sure of her safety. She had been the first that stared lovingly into his eyes, with a complete faithfulness and high-expectations for him; like he was that great person that he had locked down deep inside.

She was the first he had ever fell in love with, the first person he would ever trust his life, soul, heart, and everything with.

_ 'No, I understand perfectly,'_ a new, a much more painful memory than all the warm ones he'd seen behind his open eyes played now. _'I might have been stupid before, but my hearing is perfectly fine, Malfoy! I will not give you the satisfaction of watching me trail after you like a ruddy cat. I'm done. You wanted to play with me? Well think twice, Malfoy! I've hexed cowards who've tried to hurt me before, don't think I'll hesitate to do it to you!"_

He loved her with such intensity, and he had hurt her. Crushed her into the lowest depths possible.

_ 'Are you mental?'_ It was that flashback, the last one he had of her. '_How can you believe that after everything we've progressed together? I thought you knew me!'_

_ 'Oh, please! I've gotten to know who you wanted me to know!'_

Malfoy pulled out his wand, staring at the guard in front of the main office that was talking animatedly with a young secretary in the front desk; the witch batting her eyelashes at him flirtatiously. Her giggles and his want-to-be masculine chuckles mixed together as he eyed them carefully, preparing his attack.

And after a few more seconds as the guard was completely enthralled by the young witch, Malfoy pointed his wand and shouted, "Expelliarmus!"

"Walter!" The secretary screeched and stared with her jaw dropped as the skilled Auror landed on his back; completely knocked out. (Twenty points to Slytherin. Clearly Malfoy had been paying attention in his classes.) "What do you think you're doing? You can't go in there!"

_'I'm done...I will present myself at the Ministry and give up my magic and erase my memories.'_

Bang.

The door to the Minister's office burst open and Draco Malfoy entered it with his wand raised high, his eyes scouting the place frantically.

"Ah, Mister Malfoy—" Kingsley Shacklebolt, looking as calm as always, raised himself off of his chair and smiled dimly at the teenaged boy. "What a lovely surprise, I never thought I'd see you around here any time soon."

Draco glared, instantly infuriated by the patience and ease on his face. (What the hell was he trying to do? Be a cheap, dark, imitation of Dumbledore?) "Where is she?" He snapped at him, not wanting to play games with him.

"Where is who?"

"Do not act daft with me, Minister," he raised his wand higher at the man, ignoring the rapid steps coming behind him. (Curse that bloody, flirting, secretary! If he made it out of here in one piece and with his fiancée, he was going to be writing a letter of complaint to the Governors.) "Where's Hermione? Harry sent me a Patronous. He told me she would be here."

The foots steps were much louder, the doors of the Minister's office banging open.

"Did he now?" Kingsley raised his arms in the air, the sleeves of his robes sliding back and revealing his dark arms as he motioned for the gathering Aurors to get out of his office. "Well, that's very generous of Mister Potter, isn't it?"

Draco still kept his glare, not replying to him as his wand was still raised high.

The Minister narrowed his dark eyes, his patience still there. "I do suggest, Mister Malfoy, that you exit my office in a calm manner before you do something you'll regret. Now, the Ministry has let you live your life out of a cell of Azkaban for your choices in the past, without any question or trail if you remember clearly, but we will not tolerate any harm to the members of this office."

"Does it honestly look like I care?" Draco hissed, not concerned from the heat brewing in the back of his neck as he felt a wand-tip being jabbed into his skin. "I won't mind spending my life in Azkaban, but I want to know where she is."

Kingsley crossed his dark arms. "I don't think I can help you, Mister Malfoy."

"I want to see Hermione!" Malfoy growled, a thick knot forming inside his throat as he snarled impatiently. (Poor Kingsley, he better hurry and answer before he gets slammed against the floor like his guard.) "_Now_!"

"Mister Malfoy," the Minister glared, still waving his hands at the Aurors gathering behind the teenaged boy; ready to attack, "leaving the formalities aside and speaking as someone who's very fond of Hermione, I strongly suggest you leave and let her complete her decision. Don't you think that you've already caused enough damage to the girl to try and keep adding more? I do regret greatly that she has chosen this method, it will be hard forgetting such a brilliant and noble person alike her, but it is for the best."

Draco felt his eye-sockets burn, his chest ache and his body fill with pressured pain. "No, it's not," he spat nastily, "_I'm_ what's best for her."

Kingsley placed on a confused expression on his face. "Why is that, Mister Malfoy?"

Inhaling deeply, trying not to shed any tears in front of the man, Draco said low and clear, "because I love her."

"—Minister, the task is done," exiting from a small room inside of the Minister's office, from the other side of a door that Draco didn't see as he rushed in there, a tall man held on to the arm of a drowsy-looking brunette. The Boy-Who-Lived behind them.

"Malfoy," Harry Potter called, looking at him with wide eyes as he saw the wand pointed at Kingsley's face.

_ 'Give me a reason, Malfoy,'_ Draco heard his once arch-enemy's voice burst inside of his head_; _another memory,_ 'a solid reason to help you and I may consider it.'_

Lowering his wand from the Minister, feeling the wand behind his neck vanish as he took a shaky step towards the brunette, Draco whispered a quivering, "….Hermione?"

The witch stared at him, her eyes glistening with tears and a potion glass hanging limply between her palms.

_ 'I love her.'_

Hermione knitted her eyebrows together, blinking a couple of times at the blonde wizard that tried to step closer to her with the force of the Aurors behind him every step. "Do I know you?"

Draco's wand slipped from his fingers and that scream that he'd been trying to contain as he ran down to the Minister's office, as he ran as fast as he could with only puffs of air inside his lungs as he raced with time, escaped violently from the pit of his chest and exploded out of his lips.

It was over. Hermione Granger was gone for good, all her memories nothing.

And soon enough, she wouldn't even be a memory to him either as the potion would make effect and erase her from all their lives.


	27. The Link that Threw it all Away

**Chapter Twenty-Seven**

The air had become thick—opaque, even, passing down his lungs. The weight of the world seemed to be crushing down all around that Minister of Magic's office that Draco Malfoy sunk deep into his knees. He let himself fall apart on the expensive rug as the ghost of his previous scream burned in the trail up his throat, in his chest, and in his eye-sockets.

This was it, this was his doom. The end of everything.

His eyes—those painfully glowing silver eyes—watched the brunette with no strength left at all, just standing there a few, miserable feet away from him. He looked at her, nothing left inside of him as the only thing was shadows of shattered pieces of what he'd been told was his heart; the organ that he had never seemed to be familiar with.

Not until she came along that is. That girl who had the brightest brown eyes—such an ordinary color, but that sparkled with more light than any other to him. Hermione Granger, his Gryffindor, who no longer knew who he was, was the only one responsible for the slightest hint of a human being with a soul that started living inside of him. That girl that was responsible for that love that formulated and seeped through his pores, something that was impossible and out of reach to him but came so easily to her.

"…Draco?" And just as Malfoy was ready to shed those burning tears from his eyes, he heard the faint ring of a voice that sent shivers up his spine.

Shaking his blonde hair, Malfoy hung his head down to his aching chest; closing his eyes in all his despair. He was tired of the voices, tired of the memories replaying in his head time after time. He wanted them gone—Hermione had rid herself of all of their times together, and now so did he. It wasn't fair that she was freed from all of it and he was still suffering seeing her, hearing her, remembering her; even if for a few minutes. (After all, if the Ministry was wiping memories from people, they should do their job right, right?)

_Smack_.

"Draco!"

With the stinging of his right cheek, the broken-boy looked up from his misery. "…Hermione?" He had felt the contact of the warm skin, the hurt of her heavy hand. He knitted his eyebrows for a seconds and then, "What the—"

"There was a flaw in the plan, Malfoy," Harry spoke up from his place next to the Minister, his emerald eyes looking quite smug as his once arch-nemesis stared with disbelief at the person who had just smacked him roughly on his pale face. (Something that he hasn't seen since his Third Year. Oh, for Dumbledore's memory, how he'd missed that sight.)

"A flaw?" The deep voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt was heard instead of the blonde boy's. The Minister raised his eyebrow, looking quite confused as the Aurors behind the intruder and the intruder himself. "What do you mean by a flaw?" He turned his questioning stare towards Harry Potter and the Obliviator standing behind the brunette girl.

The Obliviator cleared his throat, looking rather uncomfortable and a bit embarrassed like if they doubted his skills to take away memories. (Which was _not _the case. He was the best of his department, after all.) "Well, Minister," the man cleared his throat once more, "the potion was brewed and ready for Miss Granger to take—which, in fact, she _did _take. Drank it completely, down to the final drop inside the flask. She was quite eager to have her memories away, usually I have a couple of witches and wizards who cry their hearts out as they're taking it, but Miss Granger was ready to take the plunge. She had said her goodbyes to Mister Potter, and he was preparing himself to feel the impact of the potion once it started to make effect inside of Miss Granger, but…."

"_But_?" Everyone asked at once. (Well except for Draco, who was still busy trying to figure everything out in his head that he forgot to close his jaw as Hermione stared at him with watering eyes.)

Harry coughed, and the attention went directly to the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Perhaps, we should leave it as it is," Hermione whispered, kneeling carefully in front of the blonde wizard with those alluring silver eyes. "There's really nothing to explain if the potion didn't work," she was speaking aloud, looking at him but trying to end the questions in the background. "…Maybe we should go," she whispered to Malfoy, placing a shaking palm on his right cheek.

Draco blinked at her, still confused, dazed, entranced, conflicted, pained—and other emotions that were spinning inside of him as he saw Hermione shed tears through her lashes. "…What the hell is going on?" He murmured to her, part of him attempting to stop himself from leaning into her touch.

Hermione swallowed, still crying single tear drops. "Nothing," she murmured back, still caressing his face and expecting him to take that without a retort.

But being who he was, and seeing that he did not believe her one bit, Malfoy lifted himself up from the Minister's floor; shoving Hermione's hand away from his face in the same movement. But instead of dropping it, instead of letting the confusion that was turning into anger take control inside of him, he held on to her hand tightly. (A hold that was a little to tight that he was sure could be classified as some kind of abuse.) "I want the truth," he hissed at her, "and you will give it to me."

Grimacing at the venom in his voice, feeling like the old Malfoy—the one that used to hate her with such passion all those years ago was back, Hermione nodded in agreement. "…Of course."

Snatching his wand away from Harry's fingers, who had so generously handed it to him, Draco glared roughly at the girl in front of him. "Then perhaps it's best if we go."

And without giving her a chance to answer, without warning anyone else, a loud _CRACK _was heard echoing in the office a second later.

"Mister Potter, don't you think that was quite foolish of you?" Turning away from the spot where the Gryffindor and Slytherin used to be, the Obliviator looked quizzically at the Chosen One. "Handing that Malfoy boy a wand while he left with your friend, Merlin-only-knows-where?"

"I doubt he'll hurt her," Harry commented casually.

"What exactly happened with the potion, Harry?" Kingsley asked, lowering himself on his royal-looking chair. "How could it possibly fail? Since we assigned the Marriage Law we've had cases where the potion works perfectly. What seem to be the defect in Miss Granger's situation?"

Being quick to answer the Minister, the Obliviator said, "well, Minister, if you recall, all those cases have ended one way or another. Either the person willing to take the potion remembers how extraordinary their magical essence is and is quick to refuse giving it up, or they realize that sharing their life with their corresponding partner won't be as bad."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "So, no one has really gotten rid of their memories?"

The Obliviator shook his head. "No one has made it to the second part of the potion to complete the process."

"The purpose of the first potion is to recall every single memory, good or bad," Kingsley continued to explain. "And like most lessons in life, the potion helps you see that no matter the circumstances, running from your plans is never the right solution. You can't run away from destiny, Mister Potter, you know that very well."

"And no one really ever wants to forget," the Obliviator added after the Minister was done.

"—So, what exactly happened then?" An Auror asked from the background, looking more confused as Harry dropped himself on a chair across from the Minister; a grin on his face for what seemed like no apparent reason.

The Minister sighed, folding his hands lazily on the surface of his desk. "The effect of the first half of the potion, which is to relive and see your memories, seemed not to affect Miss Granger simply because she was determine to let all that go. Reliving the memories caused her no more pain than she already felt, but when the final part of the potion started washing over her system, the potion died. It's full effects were terminated before it could even cause a glitch in her."

"Why?" The same Auror asked.

"Because," Harry grinned again, his eyes holding a deep secret between the color of his orbs, "the potion cannot cause a change, even if the person is so willingly to give it all up, if there is still an unbreakable link to the memories."

** X**

It was her turn to watch, her turn to stare at that figure a few feet away pace back and forth. She could see him fight with himself, mutter curse words underneath his breath, snort, scoff, and shake his head to himself as he kept pacing. It was all starting to annoy her, really, but she had decided to give him a couple of minutes to untangle whatever it is that tangled itself within him.

She cleared her throat, looking at him a little nervously. And with a little shaky tone, Hermione said, "um, can you please sit down? You're making me dizzy with all your pacing."

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" Draco snapped, stopping for a second in his turmoil to blink up at her with his silver eyes and scowl with all his might.

Hermione narrowed her eyes, her patience gone completely. "Obviously," she retorted angrily, "that's why I'm asking you to sit down."

Silence gripped them both for a second, Malfoy still scowling and the girl with her arms crossed waiting impatiently as she noticed, a little sidetracked, that his blonde hair shone incredibly whiter in the light of the moon that rained down from the place they had apparated to.

Their hilltop.

"You like everything your way, Granger, don't you!" And after a few more seconds, Draco spoke with a loud, roaring tone. "You've grown so accustomed to people swooning about for you, that you've taken the title of Gryffindor Princess too bloody serious. Well, think again, Granger. I'm the fucking Slytherin Prince, mightier than you because I've been in royalty longer than you've attempted to reign!"

Shivering slightly from the cold night wind blowing around her, Hermione raised her eyebrow as she stared from impatiently to annoyed at the blonde wizard. (What in Godric Gryffindor's name….?) "Oh, grow up, _your highness_," she snorted in irritation.

He glared more.

"Would you please just sit down?" She snapped at him once more. "You're making me immensely frustrated over all the damn pacing you are doing. Now, if you don't sit down, I'm positive I will hex you towards the mountains if you don't do as I say."

Breathing heavily, angrily through his gritted teeth, Malfoy growled a, "how could you do this to me?" as he approached her with such fierceness that made it seem like the snake was hunting the lion. His gray eyes were stormier than ever before, something boiling in him with the clear memory of his heart breaking even more into powder when he had seen her enter the Minister's office.

She sighed a little, not answering.

"How could you even decide—no, how could you even _think _that leaving me was the right choice?" He continued, taking her momentary silence to explode. "Aren't you supposed to be the smartest witch the Wizarding World has ever seen, and yet you choose the thickest option there was?"

"You drove me to it!" Hermione shrieked, defending herself as she gripped the blades of grass all around her as he lowered himself on the ground; their eyes to looking dead-on into each other. They were so close that for a tiny second, a tiny second where she wasn't angry, she could feel his heart beat against her own chest and smell his cold breath on her nose. But as quickly as that second had come, she interjected with, "none of this would've ever happened if you learned the meaning of secrecy!"

"Don't," he glared, fury still burning behind his eyes as he leaned closer into her, "blame me, Granger. None of this would have happened if you would've known better than to be overhearing other people's conversations—_or _if you would have had the decency to let me explain before you stormed out of the Headmistress' office with the stupid idea that you resorted to."

She frowned, crossing her arms now. "Oh, so I'm the one who started the lie now?" She gave his chest a poke, immaturely as that was. "At least, love of mine, I had the decency to tell you I hated you and would hate every single moment by your side from the start. I never lied to you through anything we went through together."

Draco's eyes momentarily softened—_Love of mine_?

And like she could read his mind, she gave his chest another rough poke. "Don't look at me like that, Malfoy."

"It was a foul mistake, I admit it," he spoke, ignoring her as his voice lowered to the point that he barely even heard it. He still had the ringing of their screams piercing his ears, of course, but now the fury was long and gone; replaced by what he really felt inside. "I should've been sincere from the start. I should have admitted such hate for you, just as you did when we were first put together. But, honestly, I did want to try, Granger. I did want to give it a go without complaining. Granted, I had my twisted ideals in the back of my head, but at a certain point, perhaps after the night you spent in the Manor, everything changed and…."

"And what?" Hermione whispered back, feeling the oh-so familiar knot in her throat as she could see a sincere glisten in his eyes, across his face too. "Did you mean what you said at the Ministry?" She asked gently, her eyes burning with tears as Malfoy paused.

He inhaled some of the night air, looking down at the grass before looking up and answering her. "Of me loving you?"

She nodded, her brown curls flowing behind her as the air blew again, but this time—this time she didn't feel the chill as Draco's silver gaze penetrated right through her and warmed her soul up with jitters that she couldn't help but to feel for him.

The Slytherin let one finger touch her face carefully, analyzing her every feature. (He had been right, she did look more beautiful in the moonlight.) "I love you," he said to her in the same lone tone, but his sincerity was heard loud and clear.

Hermione's lip trembled and the air trying to pass down to her lungs seemed to halt midway as her heart gave an erratic beat and her eyes spilled tears at the same rate and moment. "…I love you too."

Draco's face melted into a smile; a smile he couldn't help as he finally heard the words slip from her own mouth and grace his ears with a twinkle of magic he was not sure he could admit to anyone he felt. "…I've waited so long," he told her softly, "so long to tell you, but I should've." He took her hand, his skin enjoying hers. "I almost lost you, and I couldn't….I almost lost you, Hermione."

"I couldn't have thrown it all away, Draco, even if I tried." Hermione whispered, letting Malfoy pull her towards him; placing her on top of him as his back collided with the grass and she was breathing in the scent his chest gave. "…And I tried."

Pushing her a few centimeters forward, far enough so her face was just inches away from his and he could get an excellent view of her beautiful brown eyes, but close enough to still inhale her. "Why is that?" He asked. "Couldn't live without me?"

She rolled her eyes. "That's not—"

But she was cut off instantly as he closed the distance between them and he captured her lips with his.

Oh, how he had missed the touch; the feel; the rush of heavy blood running up his veins; the frantic heart beat. He had missed the sensation of bliss settling in his chest as he held her, as he felt her soft skin, and her perfect lips on his. Because for everything that was holy, everything that mattered and was completely perfect, he loved her. He loved her so damn much that he didn't know how he lived those weeks she had turned her back on him.

"D-Draco," A little too soon, Hermione started pulling away and pushing him back on the grass. Her breath was ragged as she attempted to let the air pass to her lungs and settle him down, her insides doing flips and twirls from the surge of electricity.

And even though she wanted it, she desired to kiss him forever, they would have time for that later. Right now, at that dire moment, she had to explain something to him.

"Ugh, _fine_," he groaned, scowling again. "Why didn't the potion work, Hermione, after you took it?" Malfoy asked, sensing it's where she was going anyway.

She stayed quiet for another moment, rolling her eyes and collecting her thoughts.

"You did take it, right?" Draco asked, eying her carefully.

"Of course I did. I'm not a coward," her voice sounded somewhat annoyed, but she shook it away as she needed to take the plunge. "It was going to be painful, I'll give you that, but not once did I think about going back on the promise I had made." She continued on, sounding serious instantly. "I did not cry, did not get my heart broken, did not break Harry's for dramatics, Draco. I was going to do it. The potion was bubbling inside of me and then…."she stopped, taking in a deep breath. "Then the potion failed—"

"Because you love me too much, obviously."

"It wasn't the love I have for you, aren't you paying attention?" She said sternly, frowning a little to herself. "It wasn't that despite my willingness I wasn't ready to give it up….It was something smaller, but that impacted everything."

Malfoy raised his brow. "You heard me enter the Minister's office?"

"Erm, no," Hermione gave a humorless giggle, but smiled at her fiancée anyway. "There was a link. Something that would have thrown everything off balance. Something that forbade the potion to work as it is intended. All because…I…erm…"

"Because what?" He asked, rolling his eyes. (She might not like the dramatics, but she sure knew how to be suspenseful.)

"Because, Draco," she smiled a little wider at him, more nervously, "I could not erase my memories or try to live a new life if I had something that was going to confuse me for the rest of my days. I couldn't have been a blank muggle girl if I had a magical-essence developing inside of me. "

Draco's heart gave a loud thump as her hand flew down to her stomach, her smile kinder and her eyes watering.

"The potion couldn't terminate the baby that is growing inside of me," their eyes met once again and a connection between the stare seemed to intensify. "I'm pregnant."

What the bloody—_Beep_.

He really didn't see that coming.


	28. Slytherins: Seeing into the Future

**Chapter Twenty-Eight**

Inside of the grand office where all of those who attempted to govern the greatest school known to wizard-kind—Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry—sitting on a throne-like chair to make the castle a much greater place for its students, an elderly witch stared furiously at two specific students in front of her.

"Explain yourselves," her voice was harsh, high, and outraged.

The boy winced at the shrill voice of the Headmistress and cowered further into his seat, looking at the young witch seating next to him from the corner of his terrified eyes. Wondering if there was a way he could blame everything on her.

"How _dare _you disgrace the name of Hogwarts with such vulgarity!" Minerva McGonagall continued to frown at the students, her anger flaring as her nostrils narrowed at the pair. "Have you two no decency—no _respect_ for this ancient castle? This is not, despite your hormones, a place for you to act upon such heated urges!"

The girl blushed a deep red as she looked away from the beady-eyes of the Headmistress; shame written upon her face as she dusted off grass from her skirt and pulled on the hem of her white blouse, noticing that it was badly button-up. (It really was going to take months to be able to walk past the Headmistress without blushing furiously.)

"I do not care of what conditions you two thought gave you the right to consummate on the grounds of Hogwarts!" There was no stopping McGonagall's shouts. " Marriage Law or no Marriage Law, we abide by the rules of this castle first! And such vulgarity, such rudeness, is not tolerated inside these walls!"

"…Technically, we weren't inside of the walls," the boy muttered underneath his breath, his eyes scanning the bare legs of the witch next to him as he continued to stare at the floor with great embarrassment.

"Nor outside on the grounds!" Professor McGonagall hissed, obviously hearing his mumble; looking more appalled by the passing seconds with her students. "Fifty points will be taken from each of you for this barbaric act! And you will be serving detention with Hagrid in the Forbidden Forest! Hopefully then you two will think twice about groping each other in the grounds!"

In the absorbed silence that had suddenly taken place inside of the Headmistress office, between her anger and the students' embarrassment, there was a strained sound of snickering poking at the gaps of the momentary pause.

"I will be writing to your parents, just to see how much more your humiliation can stretch to," the elder witch inhaled sharply. (She wasn't as young as she used to be and these kids were certainly going to kill her. Never in her life did she expect to apprehend students for something so...raw.) "I will also be writing to the Minister as well. I'm sure there is some kind of penalty for the underage restriction of sex, even if you two are bound to marry soon." She paused, collecting herself for a moment at the words she never thought would come out of her mouth.

"I do not care for the Minister's rules," she continued with a clearing of her throat, "but if they have to apply to this situation, then I'm sure Kingsley will be more willing to give you a penalty for consummating the marriage before the actual bonding ceremony."

Wow. How religiously-muggle the Professor turned out to be. Who would've thought that old McGonagall would have a bitch-fit because two students decided to act on their hyper, excited, horny instincts and jump at each other as they laid on the grass.

Oh, wait a minute! Ron Weasley and Lavender Brown discovered that two years ago!  
Broomstick closets were now in surveillance because of the pair. (Oh, those two were like rabbits when they were together.)

"But, Professor!" The boy stood quickly from the chair, forgetting that the Headmistress scared the living daylights out of him. "Punish us, take away points, send us to the depths of the forest, send us to Azkaban if you wish," the girl stared at her fiancée with a 'speak-for-yourself' glare and shook her head at the boy. (How thick could he get?) "But you cannot write to our parents! It'll give my mother a heart-attack, honest."

_ Knock. Knock. _

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat and adjusted herself casually and indifferently on her seat. "You should've thought about your mother and the shame you've brought onto yourself before you attempted to disgrace the grounds of Hogwarts."

_ Knock. Knock._

"You are excused," the Professor lifted her wrinkly palm to the students and dismissed them from her office as the knocking continued at her door.

"…She can't be serious, can she?" The boy whispered, stomping his way towards the door of the Headmistress' office. "I mean, the Minister did say to try and—"

"Shut up," the girl sighed, opening the door.

"—Luna, Dean."

Luna smiled at the brunette on the other side of the door as she removed her hand from the door-handle. "Hermione, what are you doing here? And with Malfoy?" She asked, raising her eyebrow at the pale—well, paler than usual—Slytherin next to her. "You didn't put him under the Imperius Curse, did you? I'm not sure whether the Minister would let that one slide if you did."

Hermione grinned slightly, her eyes drifting to the rigid wizard beside her. "Oh, of course not, Luna. I still abide by our laws, and I'm positive he isn't under a spell." She cleared her throat uncomfortably, trying to push that matter away as quickly as she could. "Why are you and Dean here?"

"No reason," Dean replied quickly, looking away from Hermione's stare and onto Malfoy's blank expression. "We were just saying hello, nothing more."

"Dean," Luna rolled her blue eyes, pulling out a leaf from her long, white-blonde hair with a humorous smile on her face, "and I were on the hills by the Herbology greenhouses when he had the brilliant idea to catch up on some homework. Being a Ravenclaw, and the naive girl that I am, I accepted his offer. Well, to our surprise, Filch caught us in mid-assignment and reported us to the Headmistress."

Dean's dark cheeks gave a red tint. (Why, oh, why did she have to put it like _that_?)

"For doing homework?" Hermione knitted her eyebrows together, removing her gaze from her fiancée as she gave their clasped hands a hard press. (It was about time he snapped out of it or she was going to snap him in half.) "How barbaric is that? The Headmistress has always encouraged for us to complete our assignments. It's unfair to have Filch drag you from your work for no reason."

Grinning a little mischievously, the Ravenclaw said, "well, Dean can be an animal when it comes to his homework."

"_Luna_!" The dark-skinned Gryffindor gasped, his brown eyes opening widely. (Well, never in his life did he ever imagine Luna Lovegood was capable of such foreplay with words! Seamus was definitely rubbing off on her. Best mate or not, he was going to be receiving a talking to.)

"Your fault for offering to let me borrow your quill," Luna shrugged nonchalantly. And with a little smile tossed at Hermione, the girl walked passed her and her Slytherin and exited the office with a dreamy giggle.

"I...erm," Dean coughed, scratching his head as he felt immensely uncomfortable by Hermione's questioning stare. "I didn't let her borrow it! She wanted to try it!" He hissed at his fellow house-mate before shoving Malfoy away from his path and storming behind his girlfriend with a deep red flush on his face.

Feeling a little twinge to turn towards Dean and say something, the brunette found herself momentarily still as she wondered what that was about.

"—Miss Granger, if you please."

Shaking away her confusion, Hermione pulled on Draco's hand as she started making her way towards the Headmistress's desk. "How can catching up on some homework be so—" (_Oh_.) Almost as if a light-bulb went off by the side of her brilliant head, Hermione gagged loudly at the clear revelation and innuendo she had missed.

"Well, Miss Granger, I won't say that I'm surprised, because I really am not, but it's great to see you," Professor McGonagall said seriously behind her desk, but with a happy shine to her small eyes. "Kingsley sent me an owl immediately after you and Mister Malfoy disapparated from his office. And, if I'm blunt to say, I'm very pleased to see both of you together."

Hermione smiled softly at the old woman as she let Malfoy's hand go as she took a seat on his left. (His body barely even registered where the seat actually was. He bumped in to the armrest on his way down.) "Thank you, Professor. It was a rather...interesting moment, if I may say, and well, that's what brings me here."

McGonagall nodded solemnly. "I'm aware of the situation as it is, Miss Granger. I didn't need explaining of _why _the potion didn't work. I want to say that I'm a bit disappointed in how young you are, but the Ministry does have its laws, doesn't it?"

In the small space of silence that rang after the Headmistress' comment, the echo of snickering was heard once more in the air.

"I presume Mister Malfoy is already informed?"

The brunette sighed. "Yes, he is."

"And things didn't go accordingly?" The Headmistress asked, looking towards the Slytherin with no emotion on her elderly face.

"Actually," a pink hue invaded Hermione's cheeks as she couldn't help the smile tugging on her lips as she turned back to look at her fiancée, "he took it rather well—surprisingly well." Her brown eyes flashed back to her old Transfiguration teacher. "He was silent for a few minutes, not that I can blame him, but after the shock settled in, he was genuinely happy. Which, obviously, was bizarre, but it felt absolutely right."

McGonagall raised a grey brow. "Then what has Mister Malfoy in such a condition?"

The Gryffindor's smile erased completely from her flushed expression. "Erm, well," she cleared her throat uncomfortably, "I told him I had summoned his parents to inform them about the current situation. After I found out in the Ministry about the pregnancy, I had Harry send an urgent owl to Mrs. Malfoy. I thought it appropriate for her to know, she's been so kind through out this entire thing. I felt extremely guilty after...after what happened at Blaise's wedding that I didn't reply to any of the letters Mrs. Malfoy had sent me. I knew it wasn't her fault, but I was infuriated and I wanted nothing associated with the Malfoys."

Professor McGonagall smiled with a hint of pride towards the witch sitting in front of her. "You've acted as I knew you would, Miss Granger. I'm pleased that at least through all of this mishap you've managed to think clearly." And as fast as that smile came, it was wiped away with her usual seriousness. "I've talked to Narcissa on several occasions, as a matter of a fact. And I'm pleased to say that she's rather fond of you, Miss Granger. She's spoken so highly of you that I knew her heart was in the right place all along."

"...Really?" Hermione mumbled, her chest bubbling with warmth as she thought of the beautiful and elegant Narcissa Malfoy.

"Mrs. Malfoy, Miss Granger, has gone through her dark moments, I don't deny that. But she has always been the most noble Black there was, right after Sirius, of course."

_ Knock. Knock. _

Draco took a deep breath from his seat as a soft knocking noise was heard from the opposite side of the Headmistress' door. (_Oh, please let it be Lovegood and Thomas being dragged in here by Filch again_, he thought to himself in a rushed panic.)

"Sometimes," McGonagall continued in a whisper as she lifted herself from her chair, looking at Hermione softly, "the person reflects what they were so accustomed to. It doesn't necessarily make them a terrible person, it just proves that they are an automatic reflection of what they were taught. And deep inside, scraping off all of the darkness and venom they were infected with at such a young age, you can find the good and the light inside of that person." Her beady eyes moved from the brunette's and onto the silver ones of Draco Malfoy.

Hermione smiled dimly at the woman, nodding once as she glanced towards her fiancée for a quick second. And as she looked at him, scared senseless and as translucent as a ghost, she did see much more to him than the memory of that snotty, arrogant, annoying boy she loathed for years. He was much more than what he preached and cursed in youthful mistakes; he was a person with a soul that longed for warmth, true love, and faith.

_Knock. Knock._

"You may come in," McGonagall spoke, her gaze flashing back towards the end of her office as she'd ignored the knocking for another second.

The door opened instantly and, "Headmistress," bounced into the office in less than a moment.

"Good evening, Mister Malfoy," Professor McGonagall said curtly at the blonde man emerging into her office; arm-linked with a tall, blonde woman. Both of them dressed in silky black robes. "Narcissa, good evening. How are you?"

"Nervous," Mrs. Malfoy replied as calmly as she could, her stare dancing towards the two young students in the chairs across from the Headmistress' desk.

The professor gave a single nod. "Well, I'm sure your son and Miss Granger will explain everything," she stepped away from her desk and began her way towards the door. "You'll be alright in here. Now, if you excuse me, I have to patrol the halls and make certain that all students are now in bed." And that was the last thing McGonagall said as she closed the door to her office; leaving Hermione Granger alone with the three Malfoys.

How frightening.

After five seconds of thick, tensed silence, Hermione stood shakily, and far more nervous than Mrs. Malfoy appeared as she cleared her throat. "Erm…Good evening, Mrs. and Mister Malfoy. I am sorry for—"

"What exactly is going on, Hermione?" Narcissa asked hurriedly as she interjected in the middle of whatever the girl was going to say. She pulled her arm from her husband's as she took a hard step towards the brunette, the woman narrowed her eyes. "I haven't heard from you in months. Draco wouldn't say what the matter was, but just that the marriage was off. Then Draco disappears from the manor, and Potter then sends me an owl informing me that you're about to be Obliviated and to meet you at this hour." The pureblood woman took a deep breath, looking red in the face as she tried to ejected out all her concerns and irritations.

With a dark glow radiating out from his silver orbs, Lucius Malfoy scowled at the girl. "Such a grand mess for the Brightest Witch of the Age, don't you think, Miss Granger?"

Silence, and then there was more snickering in the background that didn't belong to the Malfoys or Hermione.

"I was sure—certain, almost, that you were more mature than what roams around here, Miss Granger, and yet you have my wife and son acting like two crazed people wandering off for you."

Hermione frowned, unstirred by his firm stare. (After trying to kill her so many times, she wasn't frighten by the Malfoy-glare that came naturally to every member of that family. In fact, she had grown immune to it and even learned it for her own benefit.) "I assure you, Mister Malfoy, that I didn't have Mrs. Malfoy, nor Draco for that matter, wandering about for me purposely."

"_Then_?" Mister Malfoy asked simply.

"Things happened between your son and I, Sir," the brunette replied, matching his tone of utter repulsion. "Things that I rather leave out for Draco and mine's comfort. And because they no longer matter at this juncture."

"Respecting that, darling, then _why _are we here?" Mrs. Malfoy asked as she took the finally steps and she reached Hermione; looking between both students with the same concerned and anxious expression she had on a few moments ago. "Why was it so important for us to Floo here?"

Clearing her throat again, Hermione looked towards her fiancée with a resigned expression. (Oh, sure. When it came to mummy and daddy Malfoy certainly lost all of his manly-bits, huh?) "Well, I've something to inform you," she said gently. "I...I'm not sure how either of you will take it, but you really do have a right to know before anyone else."

Lucius sent another scowl at the muggle-born. His irritation was brewing up quickly that his pale face was starting to burn red and his veins were staring to be visible through his white skin. "Spit it out, Miss Granger, we do not have all night for you."

And then,"I'm pregnant."

Mister Malfoy raised his eyebrow high, taking a puzzled step back.

"I mean," Draco shook his blonde hair, mentally cursing himself for his blurting out in a moment of panic,"_Hermione's _pregnant," he corrected, feeling stupid as a snicker was heard in the office once again. "We're having a baby."

"No!" Narcissa gasped, gaping at her soon-to-be daughter-in-law with astound eyes.

"Um, yes," Hermione whispered.

"No!" Narcissa's jaw dropped and she brought her palms to Hermione's arms, squeezing her tightly as she continued to gape in complete shock. "No, you're lying."

Hermione shook her head slowly, feeling embarrassed and awkward. "I'm not, Mrs. Malfoy. We're actually having a baby."

"_How wonderful_!" Draco knitted his eyebrows in confusion as his mother engulfed his fiancée into a tight embrace; squeaking with glee as she grinned widely. (That was surely not normal. He was not expecting that reaction at all.) "Oh, Hermione, my darling! You've made me so happy!"

Wincing from Mrs. Malfoy's tight clutch, Hermione patted the woman's as affectionately as she could from the deadly-hug she was being held captive in. "T-Thank you, Mrs. Malfoy," she squeaked from the lack of air, trying to push the woman off now, "but, really, Draco was there too. You can go ahead and congratulate him as well."

Malfoy narrowed his silver eyes at his fiancée, scowling at her with clear annoyance. (Oh, sure. Blame him. Like it was his fault the dirty bookworm was undressing in front of him that night the child was conceived.)

And when she finally was set free from Mrs. Malfoy's tight embrace, just as soon as the latter launched herself to her son, squealing with so much excitement, Hermione turned to the most silent person in the office. "Mister Malfoy?" She called hesitantly.

Looking exactly like his son had, Lucius stood frozen on his feet as soon as the idea drilled its way inside his eardrums. His silver eyes stared blankly at the brunette in front of him—at that girl who he'd loathed instantly when he knew her as nothing more than a filthy muggle-born. (Because he hadn't seen a child, a twelve year-old girl when he first saw her. He'd seen just that, a muggle-born.) She was that girl that he felt no shame on looking down on because her blood was dirty, impure. A girl who he would've not thought twice about leaving an orphan when he saw her muggle parents inside of the famous Wizarding bookstore. She was the girl he hoped that would be taken by the Dark Lord's beast simply because she was on the opposite side of the war that was brewing. She was the girl he tried, time after time, to murder for assisting the Boy-Who-Lived, and simply because she existed.

She was the Mudblood, but she was now also the same girl who was giving him a grandchild. The same girl that was extending his family when there was once a chance that his son would be the last of his legacy. The same girl who, when she was inside, brought life to the Malfoy Manor with her glittering soul of a noblest. The same girl who made his wife smile in such ways that he no longer remembered, partially due because she helped his wife amend the ties between her disinherited sister. (Because that girl was responsible for the last two living Blacks to reunite and feel like a family after so much time.)

This girl—her, Hermione, was the same girl who changed his son. Who was the only person to give Draco a chance to live in the new world. Who by simply accepting him gave him a chance of making it out of a toll of destruction and hate; giving him a chance to see the world and everyone in it with brand-new eyes that no longer discriminated. Because she was the same girl who made his son happy, who made him a better person. (Someone who Lucius would've wished he could've raised from the start.)

"Mister Malfoy?"

And at her voice, at that voice that he'd wanted to silence permanently forever so many times, Lucius heard Hermione Granger's voice for the first time as a girl who now ignited a spark in his decaying heart. As a girl who gave him hope for the future because of what she carried with her—because he now had a grandchild on the way.

"Welcome," Lucius extended his hand towards the brunette, noticing that his wife and son were now staring at him in a complete silence. Both looked very perplexed and with a shocked glow on their faces as his hand met the girl's. "Welcome to the family, Hermione."

Feeling something settle in her heart, something that somehow felt like peace, Hermione couldn't help but to feel her eyes water as she shook the man's hand. (There was no denying this was a giant leap for them.) "Thank you, Mister Malfoy."

And then Narcissa broke into another round of incoherent squeals and mutterings as she rushed to her husband and the girl.

"Silly girl," a drawling voice spoke with a hint of laughter in it.

Feeling happier than he'd ever felt in his entire life—he was positive on _that_—Draco moved his eyes from his parents and mother of his unborn child to meet painted dark ones. "Amused, are you, Professor?"

"Not at all, Draco," Snape smirked, adjusting the black cloak his portrait had painted on his body. "I'm just satisfied to know that I was right all along. Just like I always am."

"Right about what?" Malfoy asked, aiming a quick glance at the suffocating hug his mother had on her husband and on Hermione; the girl caught in the middle, practically suffocating.

"Well, that you and the insufferable Granger, Draco, paired together would do more wonders ever imaginable." Snape grinned smugly at the boy, his eyes shining with happiness for him. (Even if it was due to the annoyingly-smart girl.)

Now he had to find Dumbledore and inform him of his good deed. After all, he was the one who informed, very accurately if he might say, McGonagall and Shacklebolt that the Sorting-Hat would end up paring the Slytherin Prince and the Gryffindor Princess together. They were the perfect match once stripped from their differences; they were bound to change everything.

Oh, what laughs he had received from them.**  
**


	29. For Turning Blue and Holy Ceremonies

**Chapter Twenty-Nine**

"No, grab the wand! The wand, you idiot!"

"I can't think of a spell at the precise moment, you cow!"

"Do it the muggle-way!"

"She isn't breathing! Hurry!"

_Clink. Clink. Clink._

_ "You would think," a drawling voice came from behind the clutter noises on the ground, "that for two people who've just had a show-down at the Ministry, argued like two five year-olds over a box of sweets, who were summoned by the Headmistress upon their immediate arrival, and spent an hour locked in her office with a pair of real snakes, that you would walk with less of a racket."_

"Lay her on the floor!"

"Hermione, breathe! Breathe!"

"Pansy, don't slap her!"

"Don't yell at me, Ginevra! I'm trying to get her to stop turning blue!"

"Will both of you shut up? You two dumb witches are making everything even worse!"

_ There was an immediate eye-roll. "Oh, excuse us. Were we disturbing you?"_

_ "Don't give me that tone, Granger," Blaise Zabini took a step towards the couple in front of him, exposing his handsome expression in the candlelight of the corridor. A giant smirk stretched across his face as his pearl-white teeth gleamed tauntingly in the dim light. "It's past midnight, and certainly past curfew. I could hear you two stomping your way out from the Head Office as I tried to catch up on some assignments."_

_ Hermione gagged. "Can we please not talk about homework?"_

_Blaise raised his eyebrow, the smirk still on his face as he was still amused. "What's this? Has the Brightest Witch of the Age finally given up on the stupidity that assignments are in this castle?"_

_ "No," Draco Malfoy, less frozen than he had been all night, replied towards his friend. "It's just that Thomas and Lovegood had been doing their 'assignments' in the grounds and were caught by Filch. And just the mere image of….Thomas and Lovegood working rather hard can put anyone in shivers."_

_Blaise shook his head while he clucked his tongue. "Oh, those two pesky kids. They were using those quills that were forbidden by the Ministry, eh?"_

_Hermione and Draco exchanged a look with one another. _

In the hectic moment of yelling and insults, Pansy Weasley and Ginny Potter turned to stare at Luna Lovegood with astound eyes. Both of them suddenly struck silent at the mere fact that the corkiest and most eccentric Ravenclaw they'd ever set their eyes on had just shouted at them with much venom; and with the most aggressive glare on her pale face.

"If both of you are going to stand there and shout insults at each other, please leave." Luna kept her glare. "The main concern here is to help Hermione, not to start a war."

Ginny lowered her head, her red curls—for a very special occasion—sprung around her as she found the floor momentarily amazing.

"For Slytherin's sake," Pansy grunted as she formed her palm into a fist and proceeded to punch the back of the brunette sitting on a nearby armchair.

Three loud gasping noises pierced the chamber.

"You see? She needs no bloody medical assistance, just a good hit." Pansy looked down at the brunette nonchalantly. (Oh, come on now. Ginny might be feeling ashamed, but it's Pansy! It's settled that she has no heart. Okay, she does. But when she's being shouted at, especially by Loony Lovegood, the Slytherin inside of her still comes out to play.)

"Pansy, don't—"

"Maybe just one more," the Slytherin cut-off Ginny as she raised her hand at the brunette once more. "Granger!" Slap. Slap. "Granger!"

_ "Would you wipe that stupid look off your face, Zabini?" Draco snapped, getting tired of hearing Blaise gasp as Hermione explained to him that Dean and Luna were disgracing the grounds of Hogwarts and not breaking the rules over some Weasley's Wizard Wheezes quills ._

_ "Oi, I'm in shock here." Blaise frowned. "I feel like a total prude right about now. There I was, letting Cho sleep peacefully while I decided to do my Potion's homework, and all of a sudden the thing to do is violate the castle? Where does that leave me, mate? Where?" He reached over, and with his dark fingers, he grasped the collar of Malfoy's shirt. "With the Hufflepuffs! That's where!"_

_ "You don't technically know that, Blaise," Hermione pointed out, rolling her eyes as Draco began to turn red in the face as Blaise gripped roughly. (Oh, she could already see it. Draco would hex Blaise, make him cry, question their 'brotherhood', Malfoy would apologize, Blaise would accept, they would share a strange but tight embrace and Hermione would raise her eyebrow and tell everyone at breakfast the following day. Yep. So predictable those Slytherins.)_

_Blaise snorted at her. "Oh, I know _everything," _he retorted at her with some tone of defense. "And let me tell you, my once-virginal-bookworm," he took a step back, letting go of Draco's shirt as he aimed a punch towards his face as he mentioned the dirty deed that caused the Gryffindor Princess to be as impure as Luna Lovegood. "I was told by Goyle, who was told by Parvati, who was told by Romilda Vane, who heard it from Lavender, who overheard Weasley talking to Finnegan and Potter that he was told by Pansy, who had a talk with Millicent, that Ernie McMillan has decided to wait until their wedding to continue consummating their physical relationship!"_

_ Malfoy raised his pale eyebrow and a look of disgust started emerging onto his expression. "That's filthy, Blaise. How can you even spread around Millicent Bullstrode's sex life?"_

_ "Because she is currently having one and I am not!" Zabini hissed._

"Pansy, she's suffocating not going deaf!" Ginny finally snapped, reaching over and pushing the dark-haired witch away. "Hermione, are you alright?"

Looking up at the redhead with a slight blur and aching parts of her body, Hermione nodded her head at the girl. "I'm fine, Gin. Completely fine."

"You see?" Pansy snorted, shoving Ginny back to the side so she could get a clear view of the brunette. "She just needed a few slaps to react, that's all."

The redheaded Gryffindor glared. "You're a complete beast."

"You don't have to be so brutal, Ginny, I know what I'm doing," Pansy replied. "After all, I reacted the same way so many times that the only thing that helped was being slapped out of it by a fellow Slytherin. And believe me, those bitches are worse. When they get a chance to attack with permission, they're not the fairest of witches."

The three other girls in the background glared at Ron Weasley's new bride.

"You sure you'll be fine, Hermione?" Luna asked, speaking quickly before Ginny could lash out at her sister-in-law. "We can always reschedule this. There's still a few more days of school left, I'm sure the Headmistress would grant you an extension."

"No, no, Luna." In a very shaky manner, Hermione stood from the armchair with some caution; smiling gratefully at the blonde as she stretched a hand out and helped her steady herself. "I'm ready. It's just…when I saw everything put together, I couldn't help but grow weak. I mean, after everything that's happened these past few weeks, it all seems so surreal now. I've never been used to so much peace that I can't bear it."

Sticking her tongue out at the redhead, Pansy turned to grin kindly at Hermione. "Well, you better start believing it, Granger. Things are starting to change—they've been changing ages ago." This time without trying to injure her—which came purely from the heart, mind you— Pansy placed a palm on Hermione's shoulder. She slowly gave her a light spin towards the mirror on the wall. "Now all we've to adjust to are the things we're getting from it. Times are no longer the same, nor will they ever be, but believe us, it's for the better."

In the tall crystal glass, Hermione saw Pansy smile at her with the sincerest expression that she'd ever seen on the Slytherin's face, especially directed towards her. And in the mirror hanging on one of the chamber's walls, she also saw her two other friends emerge from the back; the three of them standing behind her as the white dress on Hermione's body glowed dramatically on her reflection.

_ "Where are we going?"_

_ "Dunno."_

_ "I say we just let him continue walking and make a go for it," Draco suggested as he held on to his fiancée's hand while they followed the footsteps of Blaise's fuzzy slippers. "He'll never notice. "_

_ "How do you know that?" Hermione mumbled, her eyes kept forward as Blaise turned the corner and they continued to follow._

_ "Because, my Gryffindor," the blonde wizard said with a bored tone and a small smirk appearing on his pale face, "Zabini likes to concentrate on his walking. He imagines himself strutting down a catwalk from a muggle runway that he puts all his focus on every expression he makes as he walks. It's a completely barmy, but he never pays attention to the things around him."_

_ "Really?" The brunette asked, mocking laughter threatening to spill._

_ "We're here," Blaise's voice rang through Hermione and Draco's laughter; making Hermione embarrassed as her eyes quickly scanned the floor and landed on the Slytherin's magenta slippers._

_ "What exactly is here?" Malfoy questioned, his irritation quickly coming back to him as his best friend returned the smirk he had on behind his back. "You're not going to tell us, are you?" Draco added, glaring even more as Blaise shook his and just pointed to the door where they'd stopped._

_ "Children," Hermione huffed, pushing her fiancée away as she reached for the doorknob and twisted it open. _

_ "—Surprise!"_

The Ravenclaw, the Gryffindor, and the Slytherin—the three witches in the background, watched with misty eyes as the brunette shined beautifully in front of them. How delicately and magnificent the beads on her strapless, satin dress gleamed with the light of the sun entering from the tallest window in the chamber. And even how dazzling that hairpin that was made up of two snakes with emeralds attached wonderfully as pupils looked as they joined as a heart on the side of Hermione's head; pulling her waves away from her face and exposed her beauty more to the public.

"Who would've thought," Pansy whispered, trying not to break the tender moment going on as her black eyes connected with the emeralds on the hairpin, "that an object passed by generations of Slytherins and Purebloods would look so breathtaking on the Gryffindor Princess?"

"I think it's lovely," Luna murmured as well, sounding a little distracted as she gazed down at the diamond on her finger; feeling her own chills race up to her spine as she thought of how close her wedding date was. "The fact that you refused to wear a veil but instead that Black heirloom that the Malfoys gave you. It just gives it the perfect touch."

Ginny nodded, agreeing with the two other girls. "As if the ceremony won't officially turn you into a Malfoy, that hairpin adds their form into who you are, 'Mione."

Giving her bridesmaids—who were all dressed in deep-emerald dresses—a watery gaze, Hermione inhaled deeply as she inhaled some of her courage. "It's time."

And it was.

** X**

_ Jumping back a step and colliding with a hard chest, Hermione squeaked at the sudden uproar exploding from the small chamber she had just entered. "What in Merlin's—"_

_ "What's all this, Zabini?" Malfoy asked, settling his fiancée as she continued to waddle as several pairs of excited eyes stared enthusiastically at them. _

_ "This is us," Blaise pushed past the frozen couple and joined his fellow classmates inside of the Weasleys chamber, "celebrating your unholy, lovely union!"_

_ "With _my _help, of course," a hand was raised in the air and Harry Potter smirked at his best friend. "We couldn't have you return to Hogwarts without making a festivity, could we? It's not every day that your fellow Gryffindor and Slytherin are joined together to face the most sacred of unions by will, is it?"_

_ Said Slytherin and Gryffindor frowned. _

_Harry rolled his eyes at them, uncaring. "Come off it, we needed to celebrate this."_

_ "Besides, we're tired of all the drama," Pansy spoke from her couch as she tighten the hold on her bathrobe. "Not that it isn't delightful that the two of you are together—"_

_ "Or that it will finally stop Blaise from updating me on every step you two make," Cho said from the seat next to Pansy, her pajamas wrinkly as they can be as she attempted to straighten them out. (What Ravenclaw likes to look like a total mess?)_

_ "Not that we don't care," Luna—sitting on Dean Thomas' lap from a chair across the room—added with a dreamy smile. _

_ "But whatever it is that you've to say, you better make it snappy." From her position next to the Boy-Who-Lived, Ginny yawned loudly. "It is past one, and we were told that you had something very important to tell us that couldn't wait until morning. And as much as I love you, 'Mione, I've exams come sunrise, so please.."_

_"_Harry_," Hermione groaned as she was pushed in to her friends' chamber, the door shutting behind her and her soon-to-be husband. "Couldn't you not have said anything?"_

_ Potter shrugged casually. "Sorry, Hermione, but it's important."_

_ "Yeah, yeah, yeah," Blaise interrupted the conversation between the two Gryffindors. "Potter should've kept his trap shut, but he didn't—_now tell us_!"_

There was a shove. "Would you get out of the way?"

A snort was met with the angry retort and another shove was given in return to the prior one. "Excuse me, but this is a very important day for me. I've to make sure that every hair is in place." A pair of deep eyes looked into the mirror, causing a sneer to reflect from the crystal. "I can't go out there and look like a common Gryffindor, can I?"

"Oi!" Ron Weasley—who was laying lazily on a small couch, trying to take a nap between the bickering—frowned at the two wizards arguing over the mirror. "I resent that!"

"Would you get away—"

"Oi, oi! Watch it! This is fine silk! Wait your turn!"

"Zabini," from the shouts the wizards were giving, no one seemed to hear when the door to the chamber opened, "would you please move away from the mirror? You had your turn two hours ago. Malfoy needs to finish." Harry Potter frowned at the two Slytherins while a blue-haired toddler grinned greatly at the scene.

"But I've got to be perfect!" Zabini complained, getting shoved out of the way by Teddy Lupin; the boy nudged him on the legs with his small hands.

Rolling his eyes behind his glasses, Harry came to stand behind the once-bouncing ferret. "Scared, Malfoy? You look terrified."

Fixing the emerald tie over his perfectly white shirt, Draco Malfoy moved his silver eyes towards the top of the mirror, checking to see if his blonde hair was still currently in place after struggling with his self-centered best mate. "I'm about to get married, Potter, what do you think? This is the biggest thing that I've done that didn't involve me getting a mad-man's symbol burned on to my skin," being past the terrible choices he'd committed in years past, Draco was keen to see the shutter that Potter gave him. "I've been through everything with Hermione that marriage seems so silly."

"That might be true, Malfoy, but think about it the way that I did," the Chosen One said calmly, taking the advantage to fix the Slytherin-green vest he had over his robes. (Curse Hermione for giving Narcissa Malfoy the permission to add a bit of their ancestral colors into the wedding scheme.) "Marriage might seem so foolish, meaningless after all you've gone through with that person, but the connection you have with them will intensify. And it will solidify your bond even more, making it unbreakable."

"…I…I've never had someone to call my own," Draco admitted in a murmur, swallowing his pride as he remembered that his two past arch-enemies were in the room. "I was always surrounded by witches that wanted the respect my surname had, or the wealth that I would inherit, but none of them were ever interested in me. And then Hermione came along, and she loathed me. She would've given me a go if she could have, but yet, she always tried to see the very best in me…And in the end, she brought it all out. She gave me a sense that there were better, wicked things to life."

Putting a hesitant palm on Malfoy's shoulder, Harry gave a nod. "When you love a person you pull them out from their miserable abyss if you can," he mumbled awkwardly at the Slytherin Prince. "Ginny held on forever to the hope that she could get rid of all the overwhelming things in my life. And when times were the most daunting, she was the only light I saw. And once it was all over, loving her was so simple that it didn't feel right…Once we got married and the Minister pronounced her as a Potter…well, I knew that I was getting the product of all of Ginny's hope. And that finally, I'd be happy."

"…It's just the step to your future, Malfoy," Ron chirped in from where he lay, his ears perked up at the interaction between his brother-in-law and the blonde wizard. "I almost hid under my mother's skirt when I started hearing that it was my cue to stand by the alter. Fear of committing to someone in such a level shook my insides, and George had to pull me out by the ear like a child and force me by wand-tip," the Weasel King shook his red hair, snickering at himself, "and that was with me loving Pansy with all I had."

"It's just typical for the bloke to be more frightened," Blaise said as he adjusted Teddy's robes on his little body. (After muttering a, 'No kid that's been dressed by Blaise Zabini will go into the ceremony looking like a savage troll.') "It's natural."

Chuckling to himself, despite the rapid heartbeat in his chest, Malfoy seemed calm. "It happens to you all the time, mate."

Blaise glared. "Does not!"

"Does too!" Teddy chortled, smirking like his second-cousin had showed him. (Oh, he had made Draco so proud that day.)

_ "Is this where you explain to us why you didn't think about telling us about your daft choice?" Ginny hissed towards the brunette. (Just because she was tired didn't mean that she'd forgotten that Hermione was going to do the stupidest thing imaginable and she wasn't even going to be given the chance to shout at her because her memory would've been wiped clean. No one tinkers with Ginny Potter's memory and gets away with it!) "I almost blew Harry up when he explained to me where he was after Ron's wedding."_

_ "Forget her, why didn't you tell _me_?" Zabini interjected. "I thought we'd broken down those barriers of house rivalry. I'm offended."_

_ Trying to remain neutral and not show much emotion over that touchy subject, Malfoy said, "it's not something we actually wanted to discuss with the public, Blaise. It just happened." A part of him still feeling hurt that the love of his life—that's right, he admits it, love of his life—was going to tear herself away from him. _

_ Two years ago Draco would've graciously made sure she swallowed every drop of that potion, but things had changed since then. And the mere thought, the mere memory of thinking she was so close to disappearing was enough for him to recoil._

_Blinking the sleep forcefully from her eyelids, Pansy snapped, "as someone who has her living headquarters filled to the bloody brim with people, can we just continue with this?" She narrowed her eyes at the Gryffindor and Slytherin. "I was in a current dream where I managed to get the members of the Weird Sisters to kidnap me for some _spanking_ fun and you lot interrupted it. So, I'm warning you now, this better be worth it."_

_ Looking a little disturbed with that too detailed remark, Harry said, "it's actually quite something, Pans."_

_ Sighing, Hermione nodded her head in defeat. (Let the record show that it wasn't because her best friend put her on the spot, but because in a couple of months she was going to have to explain the twenty pounds hanging from her womb.) "Okay. Well, erm…How do I—"_

_ "Hermione's pregnant," Malfoy said clearly and smoothly._

_ Crash. Thump. Crash._

_ "—She's _what_?" Ron Weasley, who'd just entered his chamber carrying a tray with three bottles of Firewhiskey, gawked wildly at the two in front of him. He didn't hear the groan from his wife as the bottles and a body collided with the marbled floor of their chamber. _

_ Ignoring the eyebrow raised high on his fiancée's face, Draco shrugged indifferently. "What? It's getting much easier to break the news. We an go inform Filch if you wanted." He paused for a second, snapping his fingers with some sarcasm and enthusiasm. "Oh, I know, I'll go break it to my dear Auntie Bella's grave. I bet I can say it with a giant sneer on my face."_

_ "Hermione, you…you're pregnant?" Ginny asked in an incredulous whisper, her hazel eyes staring unbelievably at her friend. "Like…there's a b-baby—"_

_ The brunette nodded simply. "Yes, there's a baby developing in my womb." _

_ "Well," Dean snorted from his seat, smiling at the couple, "as the two top students in our year it's not surprise you two have already completed the assignments enlisted to us by the Ministry. Good job, Malfoy."_

_ Hermione flushed and Draco smirked smugly._

_ "Merlin, you're_ pregnant_!" Ginny squealed after a moment. "Oh, Hermione!"_

_ Malfoy flinched and took a step towards the side as the redhead launched herself towards his fiancée. (Who then were quickly joined by Pansy, Luna, and Cho. All the girls squealing, awing, and bouncing on their feet.) _

_ And letting the girls have their moment, the boys looked down at the body on the floor. "Zabini, would you get up?" Malfoy called, looking a little annoyed._

_ "No," Blaise whimpered from the floor. "Why, Malfoy, _why_?" He cried dramatically, his back still firmly on the marbled ground. "How could you do this to me?"_

"_Oh, I'm sorry, Zabini. I forgot that every time I'm about to have sex with Hermione I'm suppose to be thinking of you." Draco rolled his gray eyes. "Quit being a dunce, Zabini. I just told you I'm going to be a father, shouldn't you be happy for me?"_

_ Blaise continued, shaking his head stubbornly. "But I'm too young to be a Godfather!"_

_ "Zabini—"_

_ "And now you've placed heavy pressure on me!" Blaise cut off his best friend once again. "What if Cho wants a little Ravenclaw around? Do you know the sleepless nights I'm going to endure now until my child goes to Hogwarts? You've doomed me!"_

_ Draco glared. "Blaise—"_

_ Zabini cried harder, "doomed me!" _

** X**

Vivid humming birds chirped along the brilliant blue sky. Their humming increased with joy as the soft sunrays washed over their small bodies as they moved their wings along the sky in a beautiful rhythm. They flew at a constant rate over a grand lake, looking down as the ripples of water glowed alluringly as the light from the heavens and the intense greens from the forest surrounding it made the water glitter like crystal.

It was a beautiful summer day, and as all the passionate colors glowed breathtakingly from the grounds of Hogwarts the Humming Birds focused their beady eyes at a hilltop overlooking the Forbidden Forest. Being so amazed at how bright and rich everything seemed to look, the birds—and what seemed to be many people in decorated chairs—stared at three girls with bouquets of bright, yellow tulips in each of their hands. And as they registered the three girls in emerald dresses, all eyes managed to move from their beauty to an even more beautiful brunette walking down the grassy aisle with her white dress flowing behind her.

The birds chirped excitedly as the crowd staring after her sat a little straighter on their seats, their mouths twisting into smiles as the brunette joined a blonde in front of the alter. Both of them looking deeply into each others eyes; letting the profound brown and the shiny silver wash over each other.

"Beloved children of Merlin, we are gathered here in the sight of all that is magical and binding to join together this Wizard and this Witch to bond their souls for the rest of their lives," Hermione gazed at the Minister, Kingsley Shacklebolt himself as he pronounced the words that started her wedding ceremony to the man she loved.

She gave Draco's hand a small squeeze as she held on to the tears that were starting to form inside of her sockets; emotions running hectically inside of her.

It was total bliss, and it was getting hard for her to keep in the emotions as she could hear her mother in the background—a step that made history in the Wizarding World as the first muggle, alongside Mister Granger, to step foot in the grounds of Hogwarts. And through her mother's cries and her father's reassuring, supporting words, Hermione could also hear Mrs. Malfoy sniff a watery inhale as the Minister proceeded with the ceremony.

"—Which is an honorable commitment granted by our great ancestors, established by Merlin to join and create a whole couple from his descendants. Signifying to the world that the mystical union between two very different souls is not easy, but it's a beautiful thing once it is accomplished. Giving them the responsibility and the joy of extending the legacy that runs in our very veins." Kingsley raised his left palm to the bride and groom, smiling gently at them.

They smiled at him in return.

"Draco Malfoy," the Minister continued in the next second, "under the sacred testament that is the Ministry, do you accept this Witch to be your wife, to bond and join your soul, to share and strengthen the magical essence that lives within you, to live together after the blessing of Merlin's ordinance in this holiest of ceremonies? Will you love her, comfort her, honor, and keep her in sickness and in health; forsaking all others as long as your heart beats?"

Taking a deep breath, feeling the air of the hilltop, where he shared many of first intimate moments with the Gryffindor, settle inside of his chest, where his heart was beating with such happiness he forgot to exhale, Draco Malfoy gave the dazzling brunette next to him a intense look. Letting all the beauty that she was cover all he could see. "Yes. I do."

Allowing one tear to trace down to her cheek, Hermione turned back to face Kingsley as he directed his deep voice to her. "Hermione Jean Granger, under the sacred testament that is the Ministry, do you accept this Wizard to be your husband, to bond and join your soul, to share and strengthen the magical essence that lives within you, to live together after the blessing of Merlin's ordinance in this holiest of ceremonies? To take this wizard to be eternally yours, to accept his soul, to magically bind you two through his accomplishments, his failures, his health, his sickness, his joy, his anger, his everything for the rest of your days?"

Taking the exact deep inhale that Malfoy had, Hermione closed her eyes gently. Granting herself the feel of the sunrays to wash over her bare shoulders; taking the time to feel everything. To remind herself that it was all real, that she was there, and that Draco Malfoy was standing next to her. And, most unbelieving of all, that inside of her womb there was a child who was developing a beating heart. A child that belonged to both of them. A child who was to be a Malfoy; just like she was.

_ "Hermione?" Draco's voice was heard ringing softly inside of the her ear. "….Hermione?"_

_ "Hmmm?" The witch humphed, trying not to twitch in her sleep as the wizard laying next to her continued to whisper in her ear._

_ "Are you awake?"_

_ "No," Hermione mumbled, making a note to roll her eyes at that statement once she was functioning completely._

_ "I…I can't sleep," Malfoy continued to whisper, shaking her by the shoulder. Almost as if that were to snap all the sleep from her system. (Bloody insensitive witch. He was trying to talk.)"…I've been thinking about everything, and it's a rather hard thing to adjust to the fact that yesterday night I was without you and now we're lying in our chamber once again. Together. Like if everything that occurred hadn't."_

_ Opening her eyes slowly, Hermione turned to her fiancée; squinting until she adjusted to the light the moon was throwing into their chamber. "No one is saying we have to forget it, Draco, but to simply put it behind us. We can't change what happened. It should make us into stronger, better people learning from those mistakes."_

_Nodding, Malfoy pulled Hermione on to his bare chest, sighing in a very un-Slytherin manner as he felt her warm breath grace his skin as she closed her eyes once more. "Granger, I just want you to know that, well, I'm not going anywhere. That I will always be by your side, with the lies long forgotten. I need you with me, and I just can't picture you not being there. And I love you…both of you." He snaked a firm palm around her waist and onto her flat abdomen. Barely registering the fact that there was a small lump— his child forming itself inside there to be the great magical being it will be. _

_ "…I love you too, Draco," Hermione whispered in reply, forgetting about her sleep as she heard Draco's heart beat and she melted into his warm embrace._

_ He was finally human, and that was all she had ever asked for._

Kingsley blinked his eyes, the guests in the background silent. "Hermione?"

And shaking away that beautiful memory, Hermione opened her brown eyes and fluttered them back to life. "Yes, I do."

With both dark palms now, Kingsley Shacklebolt raised them high with a grand smile on his face. "I declare you two bonded for life, blessed in this sacred union, man and wife!"

A loud roar erupted from the guests, bridesmaids, groomsmen, and even the birds in the air.

"I give you Draco and Hermione Malfoy!"

And the noise was left in the background as Draco pulled his wife into a tight embrace and he got lost in her lips. Feeling his heart explode against her thumping one; even sensing a strong electrical current run from him to her, a connection.

"That's how she got pregnant the first time!"

Smack.

"Blaise!"

"_Ow_, Cho! "

"That's disgusting! Stop!" Pansy added to Blaise's taunts as Ron and Harry wrinkled their noses at the sight of the Slytherin Ferret kissing their best friend without even taking a moment to catch his breath. "Someone call McGonagall! Fifty points from Gryffindor!"

"Slytherin! Slytherin—_What, now?_" Zabini grunted as his wife smacked him once more. "I'm encouraging it, woman, what do you want from me?"

Oh, all was right with the world.


	30. The Complete Story of the Ferret

**Chapter Thirty**

"Once upon a time, in a faraway castle, there was an intelligent girl with extraordinary powers that met a white, fluffy, bouncing ferret," a soft voice filled an empty living room. "Now, the ferret was actually a very nasty boy who deserved everything he got in the years to come. Then one day, two years after they met, the girl got so enraged with the bouncing creature and his git-ways that she had no choice but to slap him across his disgusting face because—"

"What the bloody hell are you doing?" Draco Malfoy entered the room carrying a cardboard box with shaking arms, instantly frowning as he managed to catch the term 'Bouncing Ferret' more than once from the hall outside.

"Telling a story, Malfoy," Harry Potter said seriously, but with his emerald eyes shining mockingly behind his glasses as he settled himself into a more comfortable position on the sitting chair he had spotted when he entered the room. "What does it look like?"

"Shouldn't you be _helping _with these boxes, Potter?" Draco snapped, his frown still stuck on his pale face. "I'm sure I didn't bring you here so you can sit around and tell lies about me."

Harry scoffed, throwing his feet on top of the near by tea-table. "Oh, I'm sorry, Malfoy. I was under the impression that I _didn't_ sign up to be your house-elf for the day," he smirked mockingly at the blonde. "Now, if you don't mind, I would like to continue the story of the greatest bouncing ferret that the Wizarding World has ever known."

Turning away from Potter, Malfoy dropped the box angrily on the ground and narrowed his eyes at another man lazying about. His thoughts momentarily halted from his devious and brilliant plans to murder Wonder Boy. "And what the hell are you doing?"

"Nuffin'," a redhead replied casually at Malfoy's nasty hiss, shrugging as he attempted to swallow a handful of Bertie Bott's Every Flavored Beans while laying lazily on a couch by Harry's chair; a bundle of pale-blue on his chest. "You?"

"Attempting to bring all these sodding boxes from that muggle monstrosity you call a car!" The blonde wizard hissed, restraining himself from aiming a curse at the redhead and disturbing that bundle laying on him. He was honestly exercising patience at this current moment, but Potter and his Weasel were making it hard not to break his record of calmness.

At the blonde's yell, Ron patted the blue bundle carefully as he swallowed the rest of his sweets down. "Well, you've got to blend in, don't you?"

Draco was certain he could feel his blood vessels fill with hatred. "Choke on your spit, Weasel."

"Uh-oh," Harry dragged out, placing on an award-winning smirk on his face as Ron gave out one loud chuckle as he reached for more sweets from the tea-table. "Someone's a bit aggravated. What do we do with boys who throw bratty tantrums inside of the house?"

"We discipline them!" Ron cheered, whipping out his wand and trying to look ruthless as he shoved the beans into his mouth without taking a breath.

Harry shook his head mockingly, all to keep adding to Malfoy's anger. "No, that's not it."

"Shut it, Potter," Draco growled.

And then a small arm was raised in the air, coming from someone Malfoy hadn't noticed in his annoyance. "He's got to use his inside-voice first!"

"That's it, Teddy!" The Boy-Who-lived look down at the floor where a colored-hair child sat excitedly; looking at the three adult wizards in the room with entertained eyes. "That's my lad. Ginny would be very proud of you for that."

Teddy beamed proudly. "Can you continue the story now, Daddy?"

Sneering, the bespectacled man acted like he could not see Malfoy glaring furiously and turning bright red on the face. "Of course, Ted. Now, where was I?"

"Bouncing ferret!" Teddy shouted, clapping his hands with enthusiasm as he scooted closer to his Godfather from his place on the carpet.

_Bang._

"Oi!" The door to the room opened once more and in came one of the ferret's fellow Slytherins. "What's this? You thickheads taking a rest without having the courtesy to inform the bloke working in the back with much effort that it was time for tea? This is discrimination! Is this revenge for everything I've said to you lot years back?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Blaise." Draco crossed his arms. "Potter and the Weasel were about to get up from their lazy asses," he looked at the two Gryffindors impatiently.

Ron and Harry snorted together.

However, Malfoy kept his eyes narrowed at them; feeling a little more settled as something came to mind in that second that hadn't when he let his anger get the best of him. "Just because the lease to this place has Hermione's name written on it, does not mean_ I_ don't own it as well. I'm legally bound to hex anyone who enters my home." His angered face slowly turned back to its original pale, smug, handsome expression as the two-thirds of the Golden Trio looked at each other with some confusion. "Natural wizard rights. It comes with the house," he added in a whisper.

"You're no fun, mate," Harry grunted, raising himself from his comfortable seat. "We were told this was a small brunch to welcome you into this lovely new home, not to help you unpack without the right to rest."

"Oi, if anyone gets the right to rest it's going to be me!" Blaise added with a deep frown. "I've been up since before the sun arose doing things to my wife that takes loads more of energy than it takes you two get out of bed on a daily basis!"

With a mouth open, little chunks of chewed candy showing, Ron shook his head. "Actually, Zabini, Pansy likes it when—"

"Not in front of my cousin, Weasley," Draco snapped, pointing a finger at the child who was still smiling widely at all of them.

"Fine, fine, fine," Ron dismissed his would-be comment, smirking at the blonde as he registered the fact that he referred to Teddy as family. It was always a kicker and amusing for him to realize that behind all that annoying Slytherin persona, there was a bloke who loved Lupin and Tonks' little bugger just like the rest of the world. "But just know, Malfoy, that I want some sort of food after I'm done unloading boxes like a common slave."

"As if the dozen sweets you ate aren't enough, I'll take pity on you and I'll make sure you eat something, Weasley. I'm sure that with Pansy as your wife you're stuck eating what you can conjure up," Draco leered as the redhead wizard frowned, lowering the small bundle in his arms to the blue-haired boy.

And this time pretending he didn't hear Malfoy, Ron said, "here you go, Ted," as he made sure Teddy handled what he gave him with great care. "Take care of Vicky. You know how mad Bill got when you left her unattended last time he let us borrow her. He almost had my head, kid."

"Why are you even taking care of Victoire, Ron?" The bespectacled man asked as he rose from his chair and his godson frowned at the blonde almost one year-old veela in his hold. "Last time that you and Pansy took care of her she didn't stop crying for ages. Fleur says she's certain that the girl saw something that will make her loath you once she grows up and never look you in the eye."

Ron shrugged at his best friend as they both followed the two Slytherins out of the living room. "Dunno, mate. But whatever Victoire says, she saw _nothing_. I've learned to cover up, haven't I?"

Glaring at the suddenly opened blue eyes staring at him with a small glint of light, Teddy Lupin picked himself carefully off from the carpet; holding on to little Victoire Weasley with a bit of force so he wouldn't drop her.

"Stop it," he said to her, sticking out his tongue as she smiled hugely at him. "Annoying," he whispered harshly, turning on his little feet as he exit the room and made his way out.

A devious plan bubbled in his head as he began to walk faster on the wooden floor of the hall.

**X**

"Finally," Draco breathed as he lowered himself onto a black armchair that sat positioned in his brand new, full equipped now living-room. "I never thought those filthy creatures would ever leave."

And from the floor, forgetting for a moment on the assignment in front of her, Hermione Malfoy glanced up through her lashes at her husband. Looking at him with a disapproving stare as she let the Malfoy anger—that was passed down as quickly as she took the surname—sizzle on her cheeks. "Shut it, Draco."

Rolling his eyes, Draco scoffed at his wife. "Honestly, how can you be so peachy about it? It was a horrible experience that I never wish to repeat again."

"They're our friends, Draco," Hermione said, breathing in twice to keep her patience. "And it was just a simple meal. Don't get your wand in a knot, there was no harm done."

Scoffing again, Malfoy adjusted himself in his armchair a little more comfortably. (This might well turn into a full-on fight and he rather be comfortable when she hexes him.) "We had to separate Zabini and Weasley when they began to fight for the seat closer to the food. We had to hex both of them until Weasley's fat hands were released from Blaise's chicken and he released his from around Weasley's neck."

"That was nothing," she commented offhandedly.

Draco rose his brow. "We had to handle Ginny's mood swings as she complained to Potter that she was repulsed by his presence—which, let's face the fact, the redheaded menace is _pregnant_." Not paying attention to his wife's snicker and annoyed facial expression at his comment about Ginny, he glared.

"Pansy couldn't stop squealing and shouting for us to allow her to decorate our new home, demanding that she knows more of the subject since her 'Ronnie-Pie'—which made a piece of me want to strangle her to her death—had already bought her a house in muggle-London that provided her with creative ideas." Draco continued on with his rant; cheeks turning red with frustration. "Chang wouldn't stop sulking in the background because we hadn't invited Luna and Thomas, no matter how many times Potter tried explaining to her that Lovegood and Thomas were currently on their honeymoon."

Hermione removed her eyes from the surface of the tea-table to look back at the Slytherin, watching with amusement as he took a deep inhale. (Oh, how she fancied seeing him all worked up.)

"Then," the blonde wizard added, glaring more roughly as he could see the amusement on the Gryffindor's face, "I had to pay Teddy a galleon so he could tell us where he left Victoire. And I got punched on the nose by Potter's wife when I had to go get the girl from the gnomes in the garden when she accused me of giving Teddy the idea that selling your family to magical creatures is alright—_What_?" He snapped as Hermione started laughing loudly.

"Oh, Malfoy, you've honestly never been around people before, have you?" She shook her brown waves at him as she looked back down at the tea-table. "That's just all of them being friends. It's them being the eccentric family that they've been all along."

Feeling the redness of his anger starting to decrease from his pale complexion, Draco nodded solemnly at the sudden dulcet tone in the brunette's voice. "I suppose," he murmured, lifting himself off his comfortable armchair and sliding down to the floor with his wife.

Hermione smiled, her hands busy once more with the things she had scattered on the tea-table.

"Mind you, I'm just agreeing because my aunt was demented, my cousin was a dog, and my parents were servants of the Dark Lord," Draco added shortly after, not liking that smile on her face. "Although, if I would have had a normal family, I assure you none of them would have disgraced the guest bedroom in the way Blaise and his wife did."

Scooting on the carpet to make more room for her husband, Hermione cleared her throat as he lovingly put an arm around her shoulders. "Wouldn't doubt it, Malfoy, but I suggest you get used to it. Cho mentioned that they've been trying to conceive since we left Hogwarts. And they're finding it a bit difficult so every time Cho is ovulating they get right to it. And as a former Ravenclaw, you can't imagine Cho not trying to succeed in her assignments, can you?"

Malfoy grimaced. "Can't I just invest in a muggle priest? I'm sure they can soak the entire house with holy water, repelling both of them and their urges to produce their beasts."

"Don't be so mean."

The wizard rolled his eyes. Like he was the only one that didn't know Zabini can't seem to keep it zipped up, and that he's completely gifted on breaking charms and opening doors. Disinfecting sprays can only go so far, they were going to need a little more help by the man upstairs in the Muggle World because Merlin himself wouldn't want to touch anything contaminated with the Zabinis juices.

"What is this, anyway?" Draco asked, looking at what his wife was too preoccupied with. "You haven't stopped flipping through these stacks of rubbish since we got Potter to unload the boxes they came in."

"Well, _darling_, " there was the sarcasm that made up the Pureblood and Muggle-Born's relationship, "if you would've put a stop to all the frowning and the moment of once-enemies-now-brothers conversation you had with Harry, you would have heard Ginny and I talking about beginning a photo album."

"Photo album?" Her husband question, already his interest fading away. "Why would you need an album? I'll buy you a pensieve from Diagon Alley and you can travel in your memories all you like without having to reach for a bloody—"

_Smack._

"Take a look at our surroundings, Draco!" Hermione withdrew her hand from the side of Malfoy's head as she pointed her finger to the furthest window of their new home. An echo of children playing and cars passing outside of their muggle neighborhood emerged through the crack of the window of their living room. "Does it look like we can have a pensieve hanging about? And I don't need you to buy me anything. If I wanted a pensieve I could get one on my own," she hissed.

"Fine," Malfoy sighed, giving her shoulder a squeeze even though he rather be sending a nonverbal curse at her. She was so damn infuriating, and he didn't know why he put up with her the way that he did. "Need help?"

Rolling her eyes at his left hand reaching for the photographs, Hermione sighed as well. "Well, you can help me separate them into piles. I want about four pages dedicated to our wedding."

"Just four pages?" He asked as he saw a stack dedicated to the Weasel. Frowning at the redhead, he flicked the photos away and grabbed her hand instead. "Shouldn't we just make the album about us? I mean, our wedding was practically history made. I'm sure it's an anecdote we will get to read in a book years from now. Shouldn't we have one of these ruddy albums ready for when the _Daily Prophet_ storms in here demanding for the intimate moments?"

"How incredibly sweet of you, Malfoy," Hermione shook her head, trying to reach for the photographs with her free hand as the sarcasm, again, poured out. "But like I said, they are family and they deserve a part in this even if they aren't blood related."

Draco snorted to himself. "I hate it when you're so sensitive towards others."

"And I hate it when you act like such a brat when nothing is about you."

Giving her a shove back and gripping her arms, Draco closed the distance between him and Hermione with such force that she landed with her back slammed on to the carpet. "I hate it that you make me want everything that has to do with you to be about me," he whispered with a bit of irritation as he pressed his forehead on hers. He let one hand snake up to the side of her face, pushing those loose curls behind her ears. His heart gave a satisfied sigh deep within him as his silvery eyes met her brown ones. The mixture of cool and warm that always seemed to ignite the flame of bliss in his chest.

"It all can't be about you, Malfoy," she murmured, not bothered about the manner she ended up laying on the floor. "My world revolves around every part of me," looking into the small glint of sadness in her husband's eyes, Hermione leaned into his palm. "Fortunate for you, Draco, most of me can only see you."

Moving his fingers to caress her cheek, Malfoy flipped her around; rolling both of them around so she could straddle his lap as he peered up at her. "And I don't see anyone else who isn't you, Granger. You need to remember that I love you more than my own life."

"Oh, Malfoy, it's just the bond of marriage making you say that," she added. "But I love you too." She gave a giggle as she leaned down and pressed her lips onto his.

Her blood rushed thick as their lips moved together in such a soft manner that when they connected in the sweetest of gestures the lion nor the serpent existed, only Hermione and Draco.

And as both of them melted into each other, being as sneaky as he could be, Draco pushed the hem up of her shirt and let his fingertips trace the soft skin of her abdomen. It reminded him of how much he loved the silky texture of her body; of how much he loved to feel that she was real and completely his.

And even though she shared the same love of his feel, Hermione pulled away. "_No_."

"Why not?" The Slytherin mumbled in the same light tone his wife had, his lips now on her collarbone.

"We're expecting company, Draco," Hermione said, moving her lips to the side of his pale neck as he continued to trace patterns on the skin hiding behind the fabric of her shirt.

"We'll lock the door."

"_Draco_."

"They can stay outside for a couple of hours," he smirked into her hair as he squeezed her thigh with one hand. "There can't be anything more important than—"

_ Smack. Smack._

"What the bloody hell?" Malfoy hissed, pushing the brunette back from his chest as far away as possible as soon as her hands started flying everywhere. "Why are you always smacking me!" He shouted angrily, rubbing his head with one hand and swapping her palms away with the other.

"—Because she can." The door to the living room opened, and this time Narcissa Malfoy marched in; smiling warmly at the couple on the floor.

"_Because I can_," the brunette repeated mockingly at her husband, letting the smirk that appeared turn into a beam as she looked towards her mother-in-law. Hermione jumped up from the floor, heading towards the always elegant and always beautiful woman.

And as soon as the two women embraced in hello, Draco retorted with, "You need to stop encouraging her, mother." He narrowed his eyes as both of them rolled theirs. "Seriously, one of these days she is going to curse me and I shall end up in St. Mungos without a heartbeat."

"Well, next time behave, darling," Mrs. Malfoy gave a scolding look at her almost nineteen year-old son. "Hermione wouldn't have the need to discipline you if you would just act like the proper young man I raised you to be."

"But she viciously attacked me!"

And right before his mother or his wife could reply to his outburst, a deep drawling voice invaded the room. "The most dangerous thing upon Earth," a tall man—resembling an older version of Draco—entered the living room quietly and undetected, "is one's infuriated wife. They can torture and correct us as they please and we are not granted permission to do the same. Remember that, son," Lucius Malfoy said with a serious expression, but with glowing eyes as he carried a bundle of emerald.

"Although he can have his moments of vulgarity and thickheaded ways, I do not wish to correct him, Mister Malfoy." Ending the stand next to her mother-in-law, Hermione took steps towards her husband's father, "I just needed to remind him that he is not the center of attention of this household."

She extended her arms towards the man, who she still properly addressed, and waited for him to hand her the bundle. She smiled internally as Lucius Malfoy adjusted the emerald-colored blanket and exposed a pale forehead—pressing a quick but tender kiss to it. (A year may have passed, situations may have been accepted, and she legally became a Malfoy, but there were things no one in that family could ever forget. And one of those was the fact that her father-in-law tried to murder her and those who she cared for. Something that for the sake of her marriage and love for his son she has learned to put somewhat at ease.)

"Exactly, Draco is not the focal point of anything anymore," Narcissa agreed, bending down slightly and spreading the photographs on the tea-table. "My darling Scorpius is."

"That he is," Hermione smiled with such an intensity that it matched the look of adoration that she was giving at the bundle resting in her arms.

Grabbing a photograph from the tea-table, Narcissa turned to her husband and flashing him the photo. "Oh, can you imagine, Lucius, our grandson when he grows into a more developed toddler? He'll be one in a couple of months, and before we know it he'll be running all over this place." As she concealed her urges to squeal gleefully—because it was something that a respected Pureblood would never do—Narcissa peered down at the photograph of Scorpius a few months back.

"And once he begins to stomp on everything we'll send him directly to you, Mother," Draco sneered, standing up swiftly and walking towards his wife and child. "The Malfoy Manor was build to sustain anything, so I'm sure once he starts developing his magic and can't seem to keep it under control the Manor will resist a few explosions."

Frowning in a disapproving manner as her husband moved the blanket around, exposing the entire face of their son, Hermione managed to swat him on the arm. "Draco, don't be so—"

Almost as if on cue to spare Draco from a lecture of the almighty Brightest Witch of the Age, deep gray eyes opened and fluttered up at the faces of Hermione and Draco.

"We just bought this place, Hermione. With the brains that our child has, can you imagine the destruction he can cause?" Malfoy added carelessly as he looked at the open eyes that were exactly like his but that had the same wide-shape of his wife's.

"We are not letting your parents handle this."

Snapping his fingers and startling the bundle at the same time, Draco laughed as an idea came to mind. "You're absolutely right. We'll send him to Zabini's place." Ignoring the piercing scowl he was sure the brunette was giving him, he settled his palm gently on Scorpius' head. He moved his fingers lightly on his thin blonde hair, caressing and adoring. "How would you fancy that, son? Destroying your Uncle Zabini's house?"

"Oh, you're unbelievable," Hermione huffed, looking upset as little Scorpius smiled at his father's comment; appearing to look exactly like Malfoy does when he does something malicious and he's damn proud of it. "Now I am convinced you told Teddy to sell Victoire to the gnomes."

"That's unfair," Draco grunted, looking at his son with pride as he already managed to annoy the Gryffindor Princess. "Ted has a mind of his own and spends most of his days with the Weasleys. They practically encourage him to break the rules, even as Potter and his witch try to contain his rebellious ways. Accept it, that boy is already messed up."

"Well, he is related to you. That there explains everything," Hermione retorted, turning on her heels. "Come on, Scorpius, time for a nap."

Groaning in irritation, Draco followed the footsteps of the two people he most adored. (Even though he loathed to admit it, he deserved those hits. How could he ever forget that Scorpius, his son, was more important than sex with the woman he loved? Curse that jumped-up seducer with her creamy skin and lack of morals.)

Clearly ignoring her husband, Hermione's voice was heard from the hall. "Long ago in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, there roamed a bouncing, white ferret—"

Laughing softly at the loud curse her son gave, Narcissa lowered herself on the carpet of the new house. "Well, we better get started."

"On?" Lucius replied, raising his eyebrow at his wife.

Patting the space next to her, Mrs. Malfoy said, "Finishing these albums, of course." She grinned up at her husband, handing him a stack of photographs of their grandson. "We know perfectly well that they will never get it done with the way those two are."

Hesitantly and almost unwillingly, Mister Malfoy gave a solemn nod and sunk to the floor of his son's home. "Who could have thought, Cissy," he began to say as his eyes zeroed in on a picture that included the three of them: his son, daughter-in-law, and the warmth of his heart, "that those two would've ever made it through and create such a magnificent being in the process."

"I never doubted it," Narcissa said in a light tone, her ears picking up the giggling coming from a room away. The sound of Scorpius' laughter mixed with his mother's and Draco's rants about murdering The Chosen One for spreading lies to all the children. "They were meant to be, as oddly as the combination is. And whether they chose to see it from the beginning or not that outcome was unavoidable."

_ Crack._

"Drake!"

And then Mister and Mrs. Malfoy's warm moment was interrupted.

"Oh, Cissy, Lucius. Hello."

The two elder Malfoys nodded their heads in greeting; neither of them stirred by the shout and loud sound of apparation that had just invaded the sitting room once Blaise Zabini appeared uninvited as always.

Narcissa rose an eyebrow, silence taking over the room.

Blaise looked a little frazzled and uncomfortable by the judging looks the two elders were throwing him. "Where's Draco?"

"He's in Scorpius' room, Dear."

"Thank you!"

But right before the dark-skinned boy could leave, Narcissa called out in addition, "Is something the matter?"

"Cho's pregnant!" Zabini inhaled through his ragged tone, looking at the Malfoys with confused eyes. "_Yes_?"

Narcissa cleared her throat a bit awkwardly and pointed a finger at him. "Blaise, dear, you aren't wearing any pants."

Slapping his palms over the center of his middle, Blaise nodded rapidly and acknowledged the fact. "Yeah, well…It vents my jewels. You know, these muggles and their methods of keeping everything nice and flowing."

"Although I can see the excitement and the need to tell Draco about this, shouldn't you be with your wife, Zabini?" Mister Malfoy pointed out, looking away from the boy and onto the pictures of his grandson. (There was something about looking at a scrappy boy in his boxers with knee-long socks that repulsed him and the need to look away was merciful.)

"Yeah, well—_Drake_!" Zabini shouted once more, his voice squeaking with his yell. "Guess what, mate? I'm going to be a father!" He took off running down the hall, jumping over some of the boxes that were yet to be unpacked. "And I need a place to sleep! She was so excited she threw me out!"

Oh, how the story was finally complete.


	31. AN:

**AN:**

**Hello, my lovely story alert-people. :)**

***Waits a second for the 'OHMYGODSHEUPDATED!'***

**Oh, yes, this is what all of you think it is.**

**A notice to the sequel you all have demanded from me ever since this story came to an end.**

**Ah! *squeals like a girly-girl.***

**It's called Simple Kind of Life. **

**Enjoy! **


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